#d) WAS THIRTEEN AND WANTED TO SPEND THE SUMMER WITH MY FRIENDS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nejibaby · 3 years

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Want You Back

Pairings: Portgas D. Ace x Y/N

Song reference/inspiration: Want You Back by 5 Seconds of Summer

Summary: You broke up with Ace a few days before he sets off to become a pirate. You thought that it would probably be the last day you’d ever see him again. But you meet him once again in Alabasta.

Word count: 7k

A/N: This somehow turned out to be too long for my style lol but I just can’t get enough of Ace… Anyway, I hope you have fun reading this as much as I loved writing it. Please let me know your thoughts~

Reposting this because Tumblr $uck$. Please turn a blind eye if you’ve seen this post already last Feb lol

You’re walking down the streets of Nanohana, purchasing water and provisions for your trip when you suddenly stop in your tracks as you see a merchant selling orange roses.

The orange roses don’t intrigue you per se since you’ve long learned that such color could be produced by cross-breeding red roses with yellow roses, however, it’s not often you see such wonderful, healthy flowers in a desert town. That, and well, the sight brought back memories of your past with your first love who you fell in love with too young, too hard, too fast.

You could almost hear the pitter patter of the rain on that eventful day. You could almost see the dark sky on the horizon. You could almost feel the same aching sensation on your heart. The orange roses reminds you of the day you broke up with your first love.

You were both only seventeen then. It was just a few days before his departure; before his journey to fulfill his dream on becoming a pirate. You supported him in his dream, you really did. You believed in him, he’s strong. Reckless, but strong, and determined. He promised he’d come back to you after he’s proven himself, but that’s when you doubted him. That’s the only time you doubted.

While he wanted to be a pirate, you wanted to be a scientist. You have had a curious mind since you were young and it never really went away until now that you’re twenty. When you were younger you’d question, “Why is the sky blue?”or “Why does it rain?” or “How much salt is in the ocean?” But when you grew older, the questions evolved to “What is the mechanism behind this?” or “What would happen to this if certain variables changed?”

He craved for validation while you craved for knowledge.

You thought that it just wouldn’t work out between the two of you. He doesn’t need a scientist and you didn’t need a pirate to achieve your dreams.

Sure, it was possible for a long distance relationship, but you didn’t think you could handle that much distance. It would drive you crazy. You could barely handle the days when you’re at Windmill Village and he’s at Mt. Colubo, living with Dadan Family. And those two places weren’t even that far from each other. It was the trek there that was dangerous so when you were younger, before the two of you even started dating, you always have to come with your aunt Makino, and Woop Slap to get there and visit him, Luffy, and Sabo.

When you were ten years old, you only visited once in three months and then somehow it turned to twice in a month. When you reached thirteen years old, you were finally allowed to go there by yourself wherein you’d visit weekly, sometimes even stay the night. Dadan was actually apprehensive of letting you spend your days there, because she claimed she doesn’t like kids, but you were the only kid on her watch that actually did chores so she eventually relented. Those were the days you loved most, because he was just so close, you didn’t have to worry too much about him.

But soon enough he was leaving. Everyday he promised he’d come back but you doubted. The Grand Line is such a dangerous place. It‘s referred to as the Pirates’ Graveyard by everyone. It was even written in some books you’ve read about the sea. If that wasn’t enough reason to be worried sick, statistics say only a handful of men were able to come out of it alive. While you knew he’s strong, you also knew strength just wasn’t enough.

Truth be told, you wanted to travel the seas too, out of curiosity, of course. There were so many mysteries about the sea, so many unexplained phenomena, so many undiscovered things — things that you wanted to learn about. But you weren’t brave enough nor were you strong so you abandoned that thought.

Orange roses adorned your shirt on that day. You remember the feeling of the raindrops pouring over your body. It was raining in the middle of the night and you were outside Dadan’s house. You were soaked but you didn’t plan on taking cover anytime soon. You just sat outside, wallowing in despair for what you’re about to do.

“Y/N? What are ya doing here? You’re going to get sick!” He called out.

“Why are you still up, Ace?” You asked.

“I wanted to check on you but you weren’t in bed.”

You remember feeling your heart stutter at his words. Ace was rough around the edges but he was always gentle and sweet when it came to you. And you were just about to break his heart.

“Ace, we should break up.”

You remember the way he laughed as if you were telling him a joke. “Oi, don’t joke about things like that.” But he faltered when you didn’t laugh with him.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was the last time you’d see his face. You stared at his face for a while longer, memorizing his face before saying, “This will never work.”

You expected him to shout, to ask you why, to demand answers. But he just gave you a look of betrayal. Your heart dropped at the sight of that. Your vision became blurry from tears that were threatening to fall. He looked away. Were those tears in his eyes or was that just the fucking rain?

You desperately wished he’d say something, anything. You just wanted to hear his voice again. But there was no response, he just clenched his fists and his jaw, and then he was walking away.

You didn’t have it in you to stay at Dadan’s house after doing such a cruel thing so you left that night after crying a few hours after Ace walked away. You left a note for Dadan though, telling her you were feeling sick and you went home, just so she doesn’t worry about your sudden disappearance.

You really did get sick after that day. Even on the day of his departure you were sick. Makino didn’t allow you to come and see him go but she promised she’d explain why you weren’t there. Despite that, you still did it anyway, you still went there, but you hid behind trees. How could you not? You might never see him ever again. Okay, maybe you’d see him in the newspaper or the wanted posters, but probably never face to face, so you pushed yourself to come. You were glad you did, at least you got to see him smile so radiantly before he left.

A couple of months after he braved the seas, you left Windmill Village too to study science in a different town. But life didn’t really work out the way you wanted it to. In a series of misfortunes, you ended up becoming a pirate too, albeit temporarily, just to finance your dream.

The only thing that you lucked out on was your captain Naguri, an old man who used to be the captain of the doctor you apprenticed to. The doctor who you worked with didn’t want to continue becoming a pirate due to his old age so he recommended you to Naguri as a substitute. Naguri welcomed you to his crew despite you specifically telling him you’d only accompany them for five years and that you were only in it for the treasures. He told you it was fine and that five years was enough so you ended up joining them.

You went from wanting to study science to becoming an apprentice of a pirate doctor to becoming a pirate yourself and having a bounty for your head in a span of three years. If you only knew you’d be a pirate, you wouldn’t have broken things off with Ace. You would’ve just gone with him. But it was too late now.

You sigh as you touch the orange rose. It reminded you of the worst night of your life but you don’t dare to forget it since it was a memory of the last day you got to spend with him.

“Would you like to buy one, miss?” The merchant asks. “It’s—”

You didn’t get to hear the price of the rose because a familiar scream suddenly fills the air. When you whip your head to the direction of the sound, you see a very familiar straw hat on a man running away from Marines. Then it dawns to you that the man is Luffy.

You quickly scramble for your money to buy a single orange rose and then you run towards Luffy. Maybe it wasn’t the right decision to come after him, mainly because he’s being chased by Marines and you’re a wanted pirate too with a 25,000,000 bounty for your head. But he’s your best friend and you haven’t seen him for three years! That, and well, he’s in trouble so it’s not like you’d turn a blind eye on that.

Not a while later, you notice that the marine commander who’s chasing Luffy is Smoker, who is notoriously known for never letting pirates escape from his area of jurisdiction. As far as you know, Smoker is assigned at Loguetown so you wonder why he’s in Alabasta. And then you realize it’s Luffy he’s after. That dumbass could never lie low. You shake your head, Luffy almost always attracts trouble. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed with him yet.

You’re about to step in to save Luffy or at least, to buy him some time to escape when you hear another familiar voice.

“Heat Haze!”

You stop in your tracks as you saw a blast of fire stop the smoke attack and then his figure appears.

Ace.

You watch as he smirks at the Marine Commander, “Give it up. You may be smoke, but I’m fire. With our abilities, a fight would be pointless.”

Ah, Ace is a devil fruit user now. No wonder he’s known as “Fire Fist Ace.”

“Ace!” Luffy says, shocked.

“You never change, Luffy.”

They briefly talk about something, you aren’t able to catch it because your eyes are scanning over Ace. You can’t believe he’s there. You feel your heart beat faster at the sight of him. He’s more muscular now and taller. He looked healthier and stronger too. He’s still as attractive as ever, maybe even more than before. He’s grown into such a fine man.

But this isn’t really the time to be ogling your past lover. You still have Luffy to worry about. So despite the fact that you wanted to stay and watch Ace fight, you sprint off to catch up with Luffy and his friends.

In that instance, you realize that there’s a huge difference between the speed of a person when they’re running away from something (usually from danger), and the speed of a person when they’re running to catch up with someone. While you could see that his friends are running around together in one path, you don’t see Luffy’s straw hat in the group. You may have underestimated his abilities to get lost. With a sigh, you try to look for him in a different route.

You’re awfully tired by the time you find Luffy. And you’re pretty late too because he’s already with Ace and they’re in the middle of another brawl. It’s just like the two of them to get into a fight with a bunch of people. This time it’s with the Billions from Baroque Works.

You want to assist them in their fight even if they don’t seem to have a problem handling thugs like those. After all, you’ve grown to be a great fighter now.

You were pretty much a wimp when you were younger, so you may or may not want to actually show off the fighting skills you learned from your crewmates which led you to have a bounty for your head.

However, your stamina isn’t really that great yet so you still have to catch your breath first. You sit on a stray crate, watching the two fight against the group, just like the old days.

Ace didn’t know what prompted him to look behind him while Luffy stretched his arms to attack a man with a huge sword. But what he sees stuns him. There you are, just a few meters away, casually sitting on a crate with your head tilted slightly to the right and arms crossed over your chest. His breath hitches. He asks himself, were you really there this time or was it just another one of his imaginations?

You’re surprised when Ace snaps his head at your direction. You feel your body involuntarily jolt when you lock your eyes with him. Even after all these years, he still makes your heart flutter.

“Gomu gomu no Bazooka!” Luffy finishes his attack on his opponent.

Ace doesn’t look away from you as if you’d suddenly disappear if he even dared to blink. “Is that…?” He whispers.

“Hmm?” Luffy asks, not really sure what Ace is referring to. Then he follows Ace’s line of sight. When he sees you there, a smile finds his face almost immediately.

Luffy is the first one to approach you. “Oi, Y/N! It’s been a while!”

You grin. “I know right? I haven’t seen you in ages, Luffy! I saw your poster the other week, you’ve gotten yourself a pretty huge bounty.”

Luffy laughs at your statement, you’re pretty sure he’s proud of himself, so unlike you, who panicked after finding out about your own wanted poster.

Ace steps in while Luffy laughs. “Y/N?”

He merely said your name, but it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“A-Ace,” you stutter awkwardly, blood rushing to your face as you do so. You internally scold yourself, how dare you act like this when you broke his heart three years ago.

“Isn’t that the pirate Y/N?! The one with a bounty of 25,000,000 beli?”

You and Ace didn’t notice the fear etched on the faces of the other Billions as they stared at your group. You and Ace didn’t notice that Luffy has started walking again. You’re both too focused with each other to the point where you feel like nothing else mattered.

The two of you only snapped back to reality when Luffy turned around and said, “Aren’t you two coming? We still have to find my ship and my friends.”

You give Luffy a sheepish smile and then mumble a soft apology. You get off of the crate and make your way towards Luffy. Ace follows closely behind you.

After walking around the block, Luffy points out, “Ah, the ocean!”

The three of you make your way to the coast. “See your ship?” Ace asks. Luffy looks around to find his ship.

You sigh as the same group of thugs come into view again. “You won’t escape!” One of them says.

“You guys don’t know when to quit,” Ace says rather irritatedly.

You know Ace never backs down from a fight so it was kind of a surprise to you when he didn’t finish off the enemies a while back, but then again, time was of essence considering the Marines were hot on Luffy’s track. Yet, a small part of you reasons that maybe it’s because you’re there that he wants to avoid an all out attack from the group.

Before you could come up with another theory about it though, Luffy declares that he’s found his ship and proceeds on waving at them.

Then without a warning, Luffy grabs you. He loops his arm a few times over your stomach and then uses his other arm to reach for the railing of his ship. The next thing you know, the two of you are zooming towards the ship at an insanely fast speed.

And then you both crash. If that wasn’t bad enough, instead of crashing on the floor, you crash on someone. Luffy only laughs as he stands up, “Sorry about that, Sanji, Chopper, Y/N.”

“Bastard!” says the blonde male who you both crashed into. He grabs Luffy and shakes him, “Don’t you know your own strength?! I oughta throw you overboard!”

It takes a while for you to gather your bearings. By the time you do, the blonde male has released his grip on Luffy and was done on threatening him. Now it’s your turn. You hit him on the head, “Can’t you be any more careful, Luffy?!”

“Ah! It hurts, Y/N! Why does it hurt?” He complains as he rubs on the spot you hit.

You hit him once again, “I’ll have you know Gramps Garp would hit you harder if he learned what you did to me. I’m just simply giving you the gentler version of his Fist of Love.”

Garp is Luffy’s paternal grandfather. While you aren’t related by blood with him, Garp treats you way better than he treats Luffy, mainly because you’re the only friend of Luffy who didn’t really want to be a pirate. Because Garp dotes on you as if you were blood related, you always use his name when trying to reason or argue with Luffy because you know your best friend absolutely hates the Fist of Love.

“I said I’m sorry!”

You only huff in response and then cross your arms. When you turn your head to look away from him, you realize that Luffy’s crew is staring at you.

Once again you feel the blood rushing to your face, but this time from embarrassment. You bow your head, saying, “Sorry for the commotion and for, uh, coming here so suddenly. I’m a friend of this dumbass, please call me Y/N.”

The blonde male is first to react, “Luffy, you didn’t tell me you have such a beautiful friend! Oh, and she’s a belly dancer too!” He exclaims with hearts in his eyes.

Ah, he’s referring to the clothes you’re wearing. “Oh, I’m not. This is kind of a disguise,” you explain. And then you add, “I’m sorry we crashed into you.”

“I’d let you crash into me anytime,” he declares. “I’m Sanji, by the way, but you can always call me yours.”

You chuckled at him. You’ve heard that line so many times before, it’s getting ridiculous. You’re assuming the rest of the crew did too, considering you hear a collective groan from them after hearing Sanji’s words.

After that he clears his throat. All of a sudden his aura changes. “You must have a bounty on you, because those looks can kill,” he says in a rather charismatic way while lighting a cigarette and slowly walking to your direction.

Sanji never reaches you though. He’s just a few steps away from you when your sight of him is blocked by a familiar freckled back with a well known tattoo.

What an odd timing to appear.

“Actually,” Ace starts to say, “she does have a bounty.”

You know Ace isn’t the type to read the newspaper so you’re surprised he knew about your bounty.

“Oh, Ace! These are the nakama I was telling you about,” Luffy interrupts.

Ace tears away his gaze on Sanji and then bows, “Oh, why hello everyone. I trust my little brother has been in your care.”

“Yes, he has,” the crew replies, bowing as well.

“He has no manners, so he’ll probably end up burning your hands a few times…”

“Yes, he has.”

“I’ll entrust him to you.”

You bite your lip to prevent the smile that’s threatening to appear on your face. Ace truly has mastered the art of being polite.

“I thought the guy Luffy described would be some selfish, arrogant jerk…” A guy with a long nose says.

“It’s a lie. Someone this polite can’t be Luffy’s brother,” says the woman with orange hair.

The only person you actually know from this ship aside from Ace and Luffy is Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter. He says, “He’s such a better person than his brother!”

“Brotherhood is a wonderful thing,” cries a reindeer.

“It doesn’t make sense. The sea’s a mysterious place,” Sanji notes.

Ah, if they only knew Ace before. You chuckle.

Wait. A talking reindeer?!

You’re usually composed, but every now and then you do get excited when something interests you. From the amount of times you’ve spent with Luffy, you kind of react the same way when he’s excited.

You immediately step aside from Ace’s back and walk towards the talking reindeer. You stop a feet away in front of him, just enough so he doesn’t get too scared.

But the reindeer still gets scared. He tries to hide behind the lady with orange hair, except his body is fully exposed.

You still smile though. “What a cute little talking reindeer!”

Then the reindeer suddenly blushes and smiles, “Don’t think I’ll be happy that you called me cute, you bastard.”

“Y/N, that’s Chopper. He’s our doctor. Isn’t he cool?”

“So cool!” You nod as Chopper continues to dance. “Are you a devil fruit user too? Can I have a blood sample?”

Devil fruits are extremely rare especially in the East Blue and you’ve only ever caught sight of its users on the Grand Line. So when you meet someone who has such abilities, you couldn’t hold yourself back from asking for a blood sample. It’s a trait that your crewmates hate about you because you ask even if the devil fruit user is an opponent. This was actually one of the reasons why they trained you in combat, because that trait often gets you in trouble.

Seeing that you’re a pretty nice person, Chopper agrees.

“You too, Luffy, Ace.” It’s more of an order when it comes to those two. Your excitement about the devil fruit temporarily overpowers your awkwardness with Ace.

The two look at each other and shrug. You didn’t really give them any choice.

Before you can even grab a vial and a syringe, the lady with blue hair interrupts. “Baroque Works! That’s the Billions fleet!” She says, looking over five ships.

“Them again?” Luffy asks.

“Luffy,” Ace calls.

“Hm?”

“I’ll clean them up.” Without saying anything more, he jumps down to his boat and speeds off towards the ships. All five of the ships get destroyed after a single Fire Fist.

Ace truly has become stronger. Your heart swells with pride at his growth. He’s become such a reliable person. If only you didn’t break his heart, you’d be calling him yours and bragging about him.

When everything dies down and Ace settles back into the ship, everyone introduces themselves individually. Then Sanji prepares something to eat for everyone.

Sanji gives the males sake to drink while he gives you and the ladies a special drink. “Y/N-chwaan~” He affectionately calls your name as he hands you a glass of the drink he prepared.

You smile at him as you thank him and he instantly swoons. He walks away happily with hearts on his eyes after the interaction. You have never met a man like him before and that’s saying something because you’ve been to a lot of places and met a bunch of men from the three years of your journey as a pirate. Quite frankly, it’s amusing for you.

But not so much for everyone else. You can tell by the sudden rise in the temperature, and you know right at once it’s because of Ace.

You look over to him only to find him already staring intently at you. You’re not dumb, you know he’s jealous. Still though, his reaction surprised you.

In your years dating him, he never really became jealous. Maybe because the only male persons he’s seen you ever hang out with is him, Luffy, and Sabo. While that much is true, having worked at Party’s bar meant you meet a lot of people and Ace knew that. You’d even tell him about encounters with males but he doesn’t really worry about it, unless they hurt you. You think that maybe he reacts that way back then because you were his but right now, you aren’t.

He only removes his gaze from you when Usopp says, “This is great! Ace and Y/N are our nakama!”

“Kanpai!”

“Who said I’d be your nakama?” Ace raises an eyebrow but he’s ultimately ignored by Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper.

“To delicious drinks,” Usopp toasts.

“Kanpai!”

“Don’t worry about them,” Nami says, “These guys are always looking for a reason to kanpai.”

“Ace, Y/N, are you really going to be our nakama?”

You answer first. “Nah, I’m only here for research and to… Uhm…” you look over quickly to Vivi who apparently was a princess in the kingdom, “…to purchase dance powder.”

It’s funny how you feel bad for purchasing something illegal when you practically do illegal things everyday as a pirate.

Before Vivi could react, you explain. “I only bought a small amount. I just want to identify the content of rainwater from an artificial source. I also wanted to know the composition of the dance powder itself. That’s all.”

“Ehh? That’s it? But why don’t you just come to our crew?” Luffy whines.

“Idiot. Your brother mentioned a while ago that she has a bounty. That means she’s a pirate too,” Zoro says.

“What?! You’re a pirate?! You said you didn’t want to be a pirate!”

“Yeah, well I couldn’t pursue my studies if I didn’t have the money,” you say. “Besides, our captain agreed to have me for five years only. I’ve been with them for three. Ask me again after two years, maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“I don’t want to wait for two years! Join us now!”

You hit Luffy on the head while Usopp scolds him, “You can’t just force her to come.”

“Why not?” Luffy asks. You raise your fist to hit him again. This prompts him to say, “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll ask you again some other time, just don’t hit me anymore!”

Ace looks like he wanted to say something to you but Luffy turns to him and asks if he’s going to join his crew. He looks away from you reluctantly and then focuses on Luffy. “I won’t. I’m in pursuit of a man. He’s known as Blackbeard.”

“Blackbeard?” Usopp repeats.

Vivi asks, “The pirate that sacked the Kingdom of Drum?”

He nods, “He used to be a member of Whitebeard pirates, Second Division. My subordinate. Until he committed the greatest crime you can on a pirate ship… He murdered his nakama and fled the ship. As the Commander, I have to find him and finish him off.”

“So that’s why you’re after him.”

“The only reason I came to this country is because he was reportedly seen in Yuba.”

“Then you’re going to the same place we’re going,” Nami says.

Then Vivi gets a map and explains the route to him.

“I get it. So you’re headed to Yuba too.”

In the background, Sanji says, “Wherever Nami-swan, Vivi-chwan, and Y/N-chwan go, I’ll go~”

“Beat it, Love Cook,” Zoro says.

“What did you say, bastard?”

A fight between the two almost ensues when Nami says, “Anyway, looks like you’ll be travelling with us for a little while.”

Usopp looks the happiest at that. “With you along, this’ll be a cinch!”

“What about you, Y/N? What do you plan on doing?” Nami asks.

You purse your lips, thinking. Isn’t it a little bit selfish of you if you stayed just so you could spend a little more time with Ace?

“Please stay with us a little longer, Y/N-chwan~” Sanji pleads.

While Ace wants you to stay, he didn’t really like seeing another man openly expressing his fondness to you. Unconsciously, he causes the temperature to rise once again, which you’re quick to notice.

You wonder if the rise in the temperature meant that Ace doesn’t want you to stick around. You quickly dismiss the idea though, when he speaks up, “Yeah, Y/N, why don’t you join us for a little while?”

How could you refuse when he personally asks you to stay?

“Do I even have a choice?” You ask nonchalantly, playing it cool as if you didn’t want to stay.

“No!” Luffy grins.

Just like that, you stay.

Later on you find yourself in the kitchen sitting across Luffy and Usopp. They’re playing with their foods when Ace enters the kitchen. He plops down beside you and you instantly feel your heart thump faster. He didn’t even do anything out of the ordinary and yet he makes you feel like this. It’s not fair that Ace looks so relaxed while you’re desperately trying to calm your heart.

Then you jump in surprise as Sanji hits Luffy and Usopp with a frying pan and a wok, scolding them for playing with their food. “If you guys are so bored, go wash some dishes! Jeez, here I am trying to finish our bento before we land—”

“I’ll help!” You volunteer. Ace speaks up at the same time as you did, “Want me to help with anything?”

Sanji looks stunned. Someone wants to offer help? It’s been a while since he’s heard it.

“Y/N-chwan, you’re such a lovely lady~ But don’t worry, just sit back and relax. I’ll do all the work for you~” Sanji singsongs, completely ignoring Ace.

In the corner of your eye, you notice Ace glaring at Sanji while he has his back turned. “Alright…” You say after a moment.

You’re not exactly sure how to proceed after that. Instead of enduring the awkward silence, you whip out your small notebook and start scribbling away. The notebook was more of a logbook where you put in the data you gathered in certain villages or islands— may it be a sighting of an exotic animal or plant, random anomalies about certain places, anything that’s out of the ordinary or just plainly something you’re curious about. Sometimes you just put random questions that pop into your head. It’s rather messy, but it’s one of the things you own that you treasure the most.

This time you write about the devil fruit users you encountered in Alabasta, writing just a short biography of the users and a brief description of the powers they have. Just like that, you’re in your own little bubble. You didn’t even notice that the ship docked for a couple of minutes as per Vivi’s request and that everyone has left you in the kitchen.

By the time you’re done, you realize that the only persons in the kitchen are you and Sanji. The cook is preparing one last meal for everyone to eat in the ship before you all dock. This time when you offered your help, you insisted and left no room for him to refuse. When the table has been set up, he calls for everyone.

You sit at the edge of the table. Not a second later, someone sits beside you. You look up and find that it’s Ace. He has this boyish smile on which prompted you to look away in order to avoid heating up.

Luffy’s crew is boisterous, even more so during eating meals. They’re extremely funny. You feel your worry for your best friend fade away the longer you stay with his crew. But then the rowdy atmosphere instantly quiets down when all of a sudden Ace falls down on his plate. It was only a moment of silence and then they’re all panicking.

“What the hell?!”

“Oi, Luffy, what happened to your brother?”

“Oh no! He’s dead!”

“Someone call a doctor! We need a doctor! Oh, wait I’m the doctor.”

Only you and Luffy are unfazed. Luffy just laughs out loud while Usopp demands him to take the situation more seriously.

You, on the other hand, calmly place your utensils down. You’re pretty much used to Ace and his narcoleptic episodes. You get some napkins and gently grab Ace’s face. You wipe his face from all the food that got stuck on it. Then you carefully maneuver his arm so that it’s resting on the table and place his head on his arm. This is pretty much how you handled him every single time it happened so by now it’s more of an automatic reaction for you.

When you’re done, you realize that everyone’s panic has died down and that they’re all looking at you, except Luffy who continued shoving food down his throat. You feel incredibly shy upon discovering that they caught you tending to Ace. While the others are aware that you, Luffy, and Ace know each other from the past, they haven’t exactly seen you interact with Ace that much since you both arrived at the ship so they assumed that you and Ace are merely acquaintances.

You notice that Nami and Vivi in particular are smiling. Nami has the “I know something” kind of smile while Vivi has more of a genuine smile on her face. Sanji is sulking, but the others are just blinking at you. Then a few moments later, Ace wakes up. “Ah, sorry. I fell asleep,” he says nonchalantly.

“Eh?!” was the collective response of Luffy’s crew.

His hand automatically comes to his face to wipe off the remnants of food in his face, only to find out that his face is absolutely clean and bare of any dirt. This could only mean one thing, he thinks. You cleaned him off, just like the old days when you were still dating.

Ace’s assumption is further confirmed when he hears Sanji sulking about how he wishes he was the one to receive such a tender act from you.

You continue to eat as if you didn’t do what you just did. You could feel Ace’s eyes on you but you refuse to meet his stare. Unbeknownst to you, a smile has made its way on Ace’s face.

Everyone seems to be watching the interaction unfold — again, except Luffy who has witnessed this all before so he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. Anyone with eyes could now tell that there is or was something going on between the two of you.

The atmosphere only goes back to normal when Luffy stretches his arms to reach for food on their plates. Everyone immediately complains about this and the rowdy air comes back.

After the hearty meal, everyone prepares for the long trip by foot. You change into more suitable clothes, something that Sanji wasn’t really happy about since you, Nami, and Vivi switched from dancer’s clothes to a cloak that covers the entire body. Ace looks way happier now than before though and you aren’t sure why.

Before you could even get down the ship though, a group of Kung Fu Dugongs challenges your group. You’re just about to move when in a blink of an eye, Luffy has defeated each one. What a bum, you know you can definitely take them down too but Luffy beat you to it. You pout, you feel so out of shape now that you aren’t really using your body to fight. Ace chuckles at you. It was so sudden that you almost jumped in surprise at the sound.

“Didn’t think you would be disappointed that you weren’t able to fight them,” Ace says.

“Honestly, what should I expect? Luffy has always been like that,” you mumble.

“Yeah, he’s a handful.”

It’s such a short conversation, but seeing that you aren’t exactly pushing Ace away, he takes it as a sign that you aren’t uncomfortable in his presence. He sticks by your side after that.

He remains silent to the point that you even forgot that he was even walking beside you. You only realize that he’s still around when a sand whirlwind comes and he subtly shifts his position so that he’s standing in front of you, shielding you away from the sand. You’re reminded of the days when he’s always by your side to protect you. You feel the butterflies on your stomach one again. If that wasn’t enough, Ace gives you a lopsided smile when you thank him which makes your heart go haywire.

He doesn’t really leave your mind after that. The thoughts of him fully consumed you once again. But did it really go away in the first place?

Your memories with him have been replaying in your mind since then. You didn’t even notice that the sun has already set down until Vivi says that you guys should set out camp there.

The boys are nice enough to set up the tents for everyone, leaving you, Nami, and Vivi with nothing to do. You take this opportunity to shyly ask them about the Dance Powder as you whip out your notebook. You write down all the information they can give you.

“Ah, so it’s basically like cloud seeding,” you conclude.

“What’s that?” Vivi asks.

“It’s a type of weather modification, a process aiming to make precipitation fall from clouds. It is originally used to prevent areas from destruction brought about by drought. I read researchers use a chemical compound called silver iodide and disperse it to the clouds to produce snow which melts before they hit the ground to produce water.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a quite similar process,” Nami says. Then she yawns. “Sorry, I’m getting tired.”

“Come on, let’s rest in the tent,” you say, feeling the exhaustion as well. The two girls immediately fall asleep after laying down, but for some reason you couldn’t sleep. You lay there for about two hours but you’re still unable to sleep.

You get up and reach for your bag, looking for your canteen. But then you see the orange rose. You almost forgot you bought it. The familiar aching feeling makes itself known once again. With a sigh, you leave the tent, suddenly feeling that you need a breather.

You move away from the tents and sit down, playing with the orange rose. The night is cold and you’re shivering but you can’t find it in you to care. You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps of someone behind you.

You tense when you hear an awfully familiar question. “Y/N? What are ya doing here? You’re going to get sick.”

You don’t respond, thinking it was your mind tricking you into hearing the same things on that night.

“You’re shivering,” Ace calls out once again.

That’s when your breath hitched. Ace truly is there. He sits beside you and you instantly feel his warmth.

“Why are you still awake?” You ask.

“Couldn’t sleep,” is all he replies.

Silence ensues after that, but only for a few moments. Ace is the first to speak. “The cook seems to have taken a liking on you,” he says.

“He’s nice.”

“A little too nice to you for my liking.”

For the first time since he sat beside you, you look at him.

Then he speaks up again, “Ya know… You changed over the years. You’re prettier now… I’m not saying you weren’t pretty before. Uhm…” He blushes, “But you’re way prettier now. You caused quite the uproar among the Whitebeard pirates when your wanted poster came. When I saw the poster myself, I couldn’t believe it. You’re… yeah.”

You didn’t know what to say to that but you feel your face heating up at his words.

“I… I don’t know why but there’s this weird feeling I get when that blonde cook gives his attention to you. Even just the thought of him or another man getting close to you like that makes me feel weird,” he confesses.

“Ace… I’m sorry.”

“I know, I know… We’re not—”

“No, I’m sorry… I’m sorry because I had a lot of fears and uncertainties back then… I feared that you wouldn’t come back to me. The books I’ve read all said that the Grand Line was a horrible place and I didn’t know if you’d make it back alive. I was so afraid and I couldn’t tell you because you might not want to leave because of me… I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t fulfill your dreams… So I thought it was better to break up with you… At least then, nothing’s going to tie you down…” you cried.

“Y/N… I didn’t know…” He whispers, close to tears.

“Sometimes I wonder if I only knew I’d be a pirate too, should I have just gone away with you? At least then we’d still be together, right? But that would be too selfish of me… Especially when I was so weak back then. I would’ve had nothing to contribute to you. I’d only be a burden to you.

“But you know what, Ace, even if I was the one who decided to let you go, I couldn’t forget about you… Every place I go to, something will always remind me of you. Even when I sleep, I still dream about you. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you,” you look him in the eyes as you pour your heart out to him.

“God, no matter where I go, no matter how long you’re gone, no matter how many faces I meet, it’s always you, it’s always you I want to be with. I think… I think I’m always going to want you back, Ace…” You close your eyes and clench your fists as you say your final words.

You’re so selfish, god, you hate yourself.

It takes you by surprise when Ace hugs you. You melt into him at once. He lets you cry in his arms. “Ace, I’m really really sorry.”

He hums and then says, “Didn’t I promise I’ll come back to you?”

You pull away, vision still blurry from the tears. “What?”

He chuckles and then pecks your lips. “I promised I’ll come back to you.”

You cry harder from his words. His hand rubs your back, consoling you. “You still look beautiful even when you’re crying.”

You look away and bite your lip as you will your tears to stop.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you join the Whitebeard pirates instead?”

You pout. “That’s not fair, Ace… You know I wouldn’t be able to say no to you.”

“Well then, that’s too bad for Luffy,” he grins.

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cfmanymuses · 2 years

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Mer-Verse Masterpost!

This will be for a few muses, since I keep losing my damn masterposts. I can never remember the tag for it! Some of this will be headcanon based, especially for the D&D stuff! I’ll be putting this under a cut because hoo boy, this is already getting long.

Namira: To be tagged as One with the Land and Seas (Mermaid!Namira); When Namira was sixteen, she and her mentor, Brelynna, were in Waterdeep for work. Namira was still inexperienced, both with the duties of an assassin and cities as a whole, so she was shadowing Brelynna... Up until they got separated in the market. Unable to spot the dwarf, the young elf let herself wander instead, eventually ending up at the docks.

It was there that she saw merpeople for the first time, trading with Waterdhavians and sailors from afar. Amazed by the sight, she found a quiet spot, out of the way of the busy dockworkers, and just watched them go about their business and catch up with friends. Her harmless watching nearly ended in tragedy when a loud noise startled her and she toppled into the harbour with a tremendous splash. Panic quickly set in, as she didn’t know how to swim (and still doesn’t) and she would have drowned, had she not been dragged to safety by a concerned mermaid.

The mermaid stayed with her until she was certain that Namira was safe, and then she stayed a little longer, curious about the young land-dweller. They ended up talking for a while, until they both heard people calling for them. Namira looked sad, like she wanted to go with her savior, and the mermaid noticed this. Before leaving, she slipped off one of her shell necklaces and handed it to the elf, with the promise that it would help her learn how to swim. She swam off, and Namira went to find Brelynna.

After that experience, she was understandably traumatised and developed a fear of deep water. Years later, she still refuses to go in any further than knee deep. She still has the shell necklace, and keeps it hidden under her armour, close to her skin. Sometimes, when she camps close to the Sword Coast, or any large body of water, she feels compelled to go swimming, though her fear quickly wins over. (In this verse, Namira has no idea that the necklace she was given as a teenager has the potential to change her into a mermaid. She’s still rather ignorant of magic as a whole, so this takes place well before she multiclasses into warlock. It can also tie in with her main verse, where she knows a bit of magic. The shell is important, it’s what allows her to go between land and sea. Taking it from her will only result in her staying on land and nothing changing.)

Antonia: To be tagged as Song of the Lonesome Siren (Mermaid!Antonia); Antonia and her family have always lived on the outskirts of human civilization, moving only when storms threaten their waters, or when the seasons change. Considered an oddball by most of mer society, Antonia likes to spend her time in warmer, shallow lagoons or swimming beaches. People who have strayed out too far on summer days have reported being watched by curious amber eyes, or seeing a flash of black and violet scales glinting in the sunlight. More still have heard lonely, mournful singing, usually at night.

Mary: To be tagged as Heart of the Ocean (Mermaid!Mary); Being the sixth child in a family of thirteen, and a princess on top of that, makes life difficult. Add being a mermaid on top of that, and you have a very frustrated young woman who wants to get out and see the world. Not just the waters around her home, she wants to explore the human world. There’s just one problem: She can’t work out how to change her tail into legs.

#Muse Verse Masterpost;#One with the Land and Seas (Mermaid!Namira);#Song of the Lonesome Siren (Mermaid!Antonia);#Heart of the Ocean (Mermaid!Mary);#(I have written FAR too much for this so if anyone else gets a mer-verse they're getting their own post.)#(If you want me to talk about tails and stuff feel free to ask!)

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xbaepsae · 4 years

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the ebb and flow | part four

“In the five years you’ve known him, you’ve never really stopped to notice how much he has changed. Long gone is that awkward thirteen-year-old boy.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.9k

rating: pg-13

warnings: the usual character tension, nothing really too crazy...besides a shirtless jk lol

a/n: omg i love this chapter so much! eeek. it’s just very exciting imo lol. hope you all enjoy :) xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you come to a realization

“How come I’ve barely seen you these last few days?”

It’s the third day of you fulfilling out your punishment with Jeongguk, and surprisingly it hasn’t been that awful. When you both are busy cleaning, you guys rarely talk. There is just always so much to be done, it leaves little room for conversation. But this is ideal anyway; the less you have to interact with Jeongguk, the better.

Looking up from your lunch, you see Haru blinking at you. She’s the head counselor for Aphrodite’s cabin now. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

Even though she’s technically not supposed to, she takes a seat at your table anyway and gives you a concerned look. However, on her pretty face, even concern looks beautiful. “There’s a rumor going around that your cabin got in trouble.”

You freeze. “Who did you hear that from?”

“I heard some of the younger Aphrodite girls gossiping last night,” Haru says, “and they mentioned your name and Jeongguk’s.”

“Oh,” you don’t even know what to say. Styx. If the Aphrodite cabin knew, then everyone is bound to find out sooner or later. “Yeah, it’s a long story.”

Haru cocks her head. “Well, good thing I’m a great listener.”

As one of your closest friends here, Haru knows much about the history between you and Jeongguk. When you tell her about the attempted capture the flag game and how you’re stuck cleaning stables with your enemy, you can tell she’s struggling not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” she lets out a giggle. “This is all just too perfect.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, getting up to throw the rest of your meal as an offering. Walking out of the dining pavilion, Haru follows you closely behind.

“What I mean is,” she begins, looping her arm through yours, “that I can’t be the only one here who notices something.”

You have zero idea what she’s talking about. “Notice what?”

Haru suddenly forces you to stop in your tracks, angling your body towards the volleyball courts. “Notice that.”

Narrowing your gaze towards that direction, you notice there are a number of people there—especially girls. Rarely does a large crowd like that gather during this time of day; it’s the afternoon and an incredibly hot summer in Long Island this year. Your eyes move from the crowd to the players, and that’s when you see what Haru was talking about. You realize Ares’s cabin is playing against Poseidon’s, which means Jeongguk is—

“Why does he have to be so hot without a shirt on?” Haru muses, fanning herself.

From this angle, you can see the way his shorts ride dangerously low on his hips and the sweat that glistens across his skin. His hair has grown considerably long recently, and he has to continuously brush it back to reveal his eyes. As he moves to receive the ball and jumps to land a spike, you can understand why the girls are looking at him like he’s a god and not just a half-blood.

In the five years you’ve known him, you’ve never really stopped to notice how much he has changed. Long gone is that awkward thirteen-year-old boy. Obviously, training here at Camp Half-Blood makes campers leaner and more muscular, but Jeongguk looks…good—really good—which you hate to even think about.

“He looks okay,” you manage to say before you tear your eyes away from him.

Beside you, Haru huffs. “You’re so lame, y/n. Can’t even admit that Jeongguk is hot.”

“He’s annoying, that’s what he is.”

“Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “I think he looks especially delicious these days.”

After you drop Haru off at Cabin Ten, you walk towards yours and proceed to finish some summer work. Well, it’s not really work per se, but more like something you just really wanted to do. Since you’re going to college in New Rome this fall and majoring in architecture, you’ve been redesigning a few buildings and even creating your own. Like most Athena children, you love creating and can’t wait to see what your future holds in the field.

You are so caught up in your work that you don’t even notice that much of the day has already passed by, and you should probably grab a quick dinner before heading to the stables. As you rush through dinner, a few of your half-siblings bring up your punishment, clearly feeling bad that you’re the one who’s taken responsibility for everything.

“As head counselor, I had to,” you explain.

“Yeah, but it’s not really fair,” one of them says. “I mean, we all wanted to give Poseidon’s cabin a run for their money.”

“They’re all so arrogant since their godly parent is one of the big three.”

“Zeus and Hades campers are the same.”

You listen as your cabin begins complaining about all the other cabins and their various faults, but their voices fade when Jeongguk passes by your table. He’s walking with Jimin and gives you a look that you can’t decipher. But before you can delve too deeply in it, Aphrodite’s table calls him over. Flashing them his signature smirk, he leaves without another glance.

“How’s it been having to work with him?” Namjoon sets his plate right in front of you, breaking your attention away from Jeongguk.

You shrug. “He’s an asshole, but it actually hasn’t been that bad. Could honestly be worse.”

“Think you’ll last the rest of your punishment?”

“I hope so,” you sip from your goblet. “Or else Chiron is going to have my ass, and not to mention Mr. D is supposed to come back next week.”

“Oh yeah,” Namjoon muses like he forgot that the god of wine runs the camp. You don’t blame him—you often forget that too. “Where is he anyway?”

Thinking back to the head counselor meeting you had a few weeks ago, you try to remember what Chiron had told you all. “I think he just had some business to take care of in Olympus. You know, twelve stuff. Meetings perhaps?”

Namjoon nods before you tell him that you have to leave. “I’ll see you guys at the campfire later.”

“Sure; see ya.”

***

You finish your portion of the stables quick—cleaning has gotten easier as the days have gone by—and wait outside the stables.

It’s not like you want to wait for Jeongguk’s slow ass, but you have the key anyway and there’s no way you trust him enough to just leave it. So, you settle for watching the last remnants of the sunset in the sky. From here, you can begin to make out the smoke from the nightly campfire. And slowly, the smell of burnt marshmallows begins to fill your lungs and thought brings a smile to your face.

For a moment, you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that Jeongguk is already beside you. When you realize that he’s awfully close to you, a gasp leaves your lips. “Holy Styx, you scared me!”

You except him to respond with something snarky, but he doesn’t. Instead, he begins to walk away, and you frantically attempt to lock the gate and follow him. On the way to the campfire, you stay a few feet behind Jeongguk, and you can’t help but think about Haru’s words from earlier today.

As much as it pisses you off, Jeongguk is super attractive these days. However, although he looks good, you can’t get over his attitude that often clouds your judgement. He’s a pain in the ass, and you can’t wait for the rest of the punishment to fly by.

When you both arrive at the campfire, the singing has already begun. Well, the singing by Apollo’s cabin at least. You try to get as far away from Jeongguk as possible, finding a seat beside Min Yoongi, son of Hades. The pale boy gives you a weird look, probably wondering why you’re sitting beside him.

“What in Zeus’s name do you think you’re doing?” he asks, confirming your thoughts.

You feign innocence. “What do you mean?”

“Y/n, you never sit here.”

He is partially correct—you usually sit beside your own cabin or Haru—but you two are friends…right? You voice this thought to him, but Yoongi just rolls his eyes—clearly not enthused by you or Hoseok’s lyre playing. “Oh, don’t be like that, Yoongi. We are friends.”

“What have you been doing with Jeongguk?” he suddenly changes the subject, and everyone’s singing seems to fade into the background. “You two aren’t…sneaking around, are you?”

The suggestive look on Yoongi’s face would be hilarious any other moment—because he rarely shows any emotion—but you choke at his assumption instead. “Oh gods no. Why would I do something like that?”

“Beats me,” Yoongi shrugs. “All I know is you both look suspicious as fuck.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” you huff, “Jeongguk and I aren’t sneaking around. That’s disgusting.”

“Then what are you two doing coming to the campfire together?” If Yoongi doesn’t know about your punishment, then most people probably don’t know either. That brings you a little relief.

Although you don’t want everyone to know, you also don’t mind telling Yoongi. As a Hades kid, he mostly keeps to himself anyway. So, you answer his question and reveal that you actually got in trouble, which is why you’ve been spending extra time with the son of Poseidon.

“So, yeah, Chiron’s making us build teamwork skills,” you practically spit out.

Yoongi hums, eyes moving from you to glance at the fire. You take a moment to observe him, glancing at his dark hair and dark clothes. How does he manage to get away with not wearing the camp t-shirt? Maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Interesting,” is all he says.

“How so?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer your question; instead, he asks, “So, how’s it been building teamwork skills with Jeongguk?”

“I mean,” you begin, “it could be worse, I guess. Jeongguk and I usually fight all the time; but we really haven’t these last few days.”

“That’s some progress, yes?”

You nod. “I suppose.”

“Think you’ll hate the poor kid forever?” Turning your head to face him, you notice a weird expression in his eyes. You don’t really know what it means.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. “Forever’s a long time.”

Silence passes between you after that, the both of you paying attention to Chiron’s announcements. Afterwards, more music is played, and more singing is done—some campers even get up to dance with the nymphs. Eventually, the night ends and everyone slowly begins to walk back to their cabins. You’re about to join Namjoon and the rest of Athena’s cabin when Yoongi’s voice holds you back.

“I think you should give Jeongguk a chance.”

You raise a brow at that. Is he being serious? “What?”

“He’s not as horrible as you make him seem,” Yoongi says, which causes you to roll your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Are we talking about the same person?” You almost want to laugh. Where is this even coming from? “Because if so, you have a really different perception of Jeongguk than I do.”

“Maybe I do because I’m a child of the Big Three too, which means I empathize with him; but at the same time, you’ve only seen one side of Jeongguk—the side you want to see. The side he shows when you two are at odds.”

You think about this for a moment, but quickly shake your head. “I don’t know, Yoongi.”

“Trust me,” he says before leaving you to stand there all alone.

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

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My story- Part Thirteen

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tags: @kacie-0156 @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019 , @cordonia-gothqueen, @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld @bascmve01

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, mention of miscarriage.

Word count: 5,316

Catch up here

This one again is super personal to me. They all are personal in one way or another but this one and the one about my miscarriage are extremely personal.

I really debated writing this in but writing is such an amazing outlet. I was in such a dark place when I lost the baby last year and I didn’t see a way out so I did things that I’m not proud of. I tried to take my own life and now i’m so beyond happy that my attempt was unsuccessful, however, everything has just gone really wrong over the last few weeks and I’ve just started feeling really down again. Writing about my feelings is kind of helping me get out of this funk.

(Riley’s POV)

It’s now the next morning since I arrived back from the hospital. Liam, my parents and my brother had tried to get me to come out of my room but I was being a rebellious teenager and refused to open the door. I think Liam has slept in the spare room. We live in a literal palace so there’s plenty of space for him to stay. I don’t think any of them can understand how I’m feeling. I know that everyone has days when they feel down and a little depressed but I feel like this all the time. I’m numb. I go through my day like a robot. Physically I’m here but mentally I’m a million miles away. I just don’t feel anything anymore.

Everyday just blends in together until it makes no sense anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy. My memory has just gone; I don't even remember what I had for breakfast...If I had breakfast at all that is. I hate this so much.

I’ve taken my medication for the first time in a while earlier this morning after a heated debate with my parents. I struggle to see how any of them think that taking a few pills is going to do anything. It should stop the seizures but it’s not going to change how I feel.

I feel suffocated. I don’t need to be treated like I’m a baby. I’m just...I’m tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, I’m just so exhausted all the time. I am sick of faking being happy; it doesn't work.

Losing the baby was just my breaking point and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it. I don’t want to come back from it. Why would I want to carry on knowing that the rest of my life will be spent in fear of a seizure, that I might not be able to give my husband the one thing he wants more than anything, or with the possibility that I’ll get out of this hole and in a short while end up back here again?

I just want it to stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” I ask, bitterly. I’m sitting on the couch in silence with the rest of my family. I can feel Josh’s eyes on me. I turn to look at him as he averts his gaze. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Just talk to us, Ri,” my brother encouraged.

“About? I told you last night all you need to know. I’ve fucked everything up,” I say, raising my voice as I stand up.

“No, you haven't,” Josh insists.

I shake my head and let out a frustrated groan. When are they going to understand that telling me that everything is fine, that I didn’t fuck up isn't helping? It goes in one ear and out the other. I look back to Josh. “Why are you here, Josh? Who invited you?”

This isn't me. I’m not mean. I’m not like this. I love my brother, growing up he was my best friend but I just don’t care anymore.

“I don’t need my big brother to come and save the day. I’m an adult!” I yell. I’m so easily agitated. Maybe that’s down to the lack of sleep...I don’t know. “And you!” I yell as I turn my full attention to my husband. “You only care because it makes you look like a good person, doesn't it? Lovely, kind Liam married the girl with a disability!”

He looks stunned...maybe a little hurt even. Liam opens his mouth to speak but obviously decides against it. “H-how can you say that?”

“Because it’s true,” I shrug. Nobody says anything to object and in my head they’re just confirming it. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody has used me and my disorder to make themselves look like a better person.

Liam gets to his feet and attempts to step towards me. I hold up a hand to stop him. “Just leave me alone,” I command.

I move past him, grab my phone off the coffee table then I leave the apartment. I need to just be away from everyone.

I need some space.

Jacob and I have been getting particularly closer over the last few weeks. He had visited me a couple times while in the hospital and had been coming over after school. I’m still not back but my parents have agreed to let Jacob, Luna and a couple of my other friends come over.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings and parents but I’m starting to get a little sick of being stuck with them all day. The house has currently been chaotic- Josh is moving out, he’s been saying this for a couple years though, to be fair he had actually moved out with his girlfriend but they had broken up. It was rather tragic actually. He really loved it. Casey is also about to move out and to Boston apparently.

Jacob and I are snuggled up on the couch, blanket draped over our legs, despite the fact it’s the middle of the summer in NYC. Although I’ve got the AC on high enough that at least we’re not dripping with sweat as we cuddle.

Sitting inside is not the ideal thing to do on such a beautiful day however, sometimes, much like now the heat has been known to cause more seizures. I don’t mind sitting inside though; I’m not really a fan of the sun, I burn really easily. That might possible be now to me being a ginger- the sun hates me.

Jacob is just amazing. Since he found out about my epilepsy he has been amazing. He makes sure that I’m on my side and helps me wake up when the seizure ends. Obviously, epilepsy is a big thing to deal with when you actually have it but it’s also a big thing for the people are you too but Jacob doesn’t seem bothered by it or is overly worried. It’s nice and refreshing to have somebody who isn’t constantly worried, however, we haven't really discussed it so he doesn’t know much about it.

We spend a little while longer watching celebrity masterchef- Jacob is from the UK and had introduced me to the show a little while ago as we talk about what it's like back in England. It’s nice learning about where he’s from. He’s lived in the States for a few years now but still has a very, very British accent.

“What triggers them?” Jacob asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us both. I look up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Your seizures. What triggers them?”

I clear my throat, thinking about what I'm going to say before I speak normally makes me stutter a little less. “Q-quite a few t-things. N-not taking m-my medication, sleep d-d-deprivation, s-stress, if I get t-too overwhelmed can t-trigger them, if I d-don't eat can s-sometimes cause them or if I get t-too hot.” I explain, internally cringing at how much I just stuttered. Speech therapy it helping, it’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s nowhere near back to how it was before. He nods. “W-When I-I was younger hot showers sometimes triggered them or caused an aura,” I add, “I-it doesn't really happen anymore. I-i-It’s a m-minefield s-s-sometimes.”

“Aura?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I nod, “N-not like a-a s-s-spiritual one. It's what t-t-the feeling you get before a s-s-seizure is c-called.”

“And you get that every time you’re about to have a seizure?”

“M-m-most of the time. Occasionally they just k-kinda happen but n-n-normally before a grand mal s-seizure I will. W-when I have absences they just happen b-but they’re m-much e-easier t-to recover from. They happen a-and then i-I’m fine s-straight away,” I explain.

“Absence?” he asks. It dawns on me that he really doesn't know much about my seizures or seizures in general other than the basic first aid while it’s actually happening.

I turn around to face him and bring my legs under me. I take some time to think about my sentence before I speak. “Yeah, there’s different types of s-s-seizures,” I tell him, “Grand m-mal s-seizures are the m-most r-recognisable s-seizure; it’s the m-most c-c-common one people think about but then there’s a few others. I have absence seizures which is when I kinda just s-stare off into space for a couple s-seconds. I’ve also had a couple m-m-myoclonic seizures too.”

“What’s that?”

“It n-normally happens in n-both arms but not always, your m-mouth can twitch and your jaw can jerk. It can happen to the head and neck too but the person is fully aware of what’s happening. They’re really scary- all types of seizures are.”

We talked for a little while longer about my epilepsy and eventually changed the subject to something a little happier. I was engrossed in our conversation when my stomach rolled.

Not now.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to get rid of the nausea. It doesn’t go away and my arm starts to tingle. “J-Jake, i-it might happen again,” I told him, panicked- this never gets easier.

He peeled his gaze off the tv and turned to me. “Ri, you had one this morning. Are you sure this is okay?” He asks me with concern.

It’s true I had one this morning but unfortunately my brain doesn’t really care about if I've already had one today. I’ve learned that it’s going to do whatever it wants and that I have no say in it.

Jacob helps me off the couch and onto the floor. This one is coming on really, really quickly. I don’t remember anything anymore; nothing makes sense. Basically, as soon as I’m laying down on the floor I’m consumed by blackness.

I’m now outside after storming off. Taking a walk through the palace grounds often helps me to clear my head. I’m head to the garden maze- that’s my favourite place. The place I can go to and just clear my head and attempt to make sense of everything.

Everything is a mess. Why can’t I just open up to people? Why can’t I be honest with people about how I’m feeling? There’s thick dark grey clouds looming over me. It’s going to rain. Great. Even the weather seems to be in sync to how I’m feeling.

I want to be able to open up. I want to stop feeling like this but do I deserve to feel better? I don’t think I do.

Ben constantly made me feel like shit and so did all his friends. My teenage years especially were made up of people telling me that I’m worthless or should’ve died and now it’s made up of having everything that I want so incredibly badly taken away from me.

Is there any point to any of this anymore? I can’t seem to find one.

Josh, my mom and dad, Liam, my friends all ask me if i’m okay and I say i’m fine. It’s a habit. I tell them that I’m okay while I’m screaming on the inside that I’m not; praying that they’ll continue to push me enough so I finally break and tell them...but they don’t. They think giving me space and time is helping me but while I’m alone I just dig myself a deeper hole; one that I’m never going to be able to escape from.

Every time they leave me alone it's like they’re putting me back into a cell, all by myself, alone with these crippling thoughts. My mind is a prison and I’m never getting out.

I continue to walk for a little while longer. It’s cold and I can feel the rain lightly starting to fall but I don’t want to go back. Not yet.

I can feel the salty tears streaming down my cheeks but I don’t wipe them away. What’s the point? They’ll just soon be replaced with more.

My family, my friends, my husband...they hate me don’t they? I snapped at Josh, at Liam...I- I suddenly come to a halt when my stomach rolls and I feel that all too familiar feeling again.

My arm is beginning to tingle, everything is growing more and more confusing. The one thing I know is that I want my husband. I want Liam.

Why was I so mean to him? He was only trying to help.

He’s going to be even more angry at me after this. I can’t tell him; he’ll be mad. I think for a second. There’s one other person that won’t be mad at me...

Casey- my doctor sister.

I retrieved my phone from my back pocket, nearly dropping it onto the floor in the process. I clumsily find her contact and type out a barely coherent text.

Me: Im goins to hsve a seizure

Even auto-correct can’t help me. The device in my hand makes a sound just seconds later as a reply comes in.

Casey: Like right now?

My vision is starting to blur and I know longer know how to respond to my sister. Nothing makes sense.

The device starts to vibrate and sound comes from it too. I fumble with it and manage to answer.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice slurred. I try to hold the device to my ear but coordination is not something I possess right now so it rests on my cheek. I’m sure this isn’t right.

“Ri?” My sister’s concerned voice sounded through the device, “Where are you?”

“I..”

“Where’s Liam, Ri? What’s going on?” She sounds serious.

“He doesn’t w-want t-to,” I stutter. I can feel the tears starting to prick at my eyes.

“He’s mad,” I slur.

“Where are you?”

“O-outside,” I stutter.

“Can you lay down on your side for me?” She directs me gently. I comply and lower myself down onto the wet grass and lay on my side. I can feel something hitting me...like rain.

“He’s mad,” I whisper. That’s all I know; Liam’s mad at me and won’t want to help me.

“He still wants to help you,” She told me but I don’t believe her. “Riley, I need you to stay on your side for me, okay? I’m going to call Liam.” I think she’s hung up I can’t hear her anymore.

I close my eyes; feeling my body be covered in goosebumps as the freezing cold rain hammers down. “H-He’s m-m-mad at m-me.” That’s the last thought I have, the last thing I can say before the world goes black.

(Drake's POV)

I’m out on my morning run on the way back to the palace now. Rain has started to pour and the crisp air has started to sting at my exposed arms, legs and face.

I’m jogging along the path on the way back to the palace when I notice somebody laying on the grass. I slow down a little and change direction to head over.

As I get closer I realise that it’s Riley so pick up my jog. I finally reach her and kneel down beside her. I lean over her slightly to look at her face, her eyes are closed and a little blood is pooling out of her mouth. Without thinking, I wipe it away and onto my black shorts. I then brush hair away from her face. My hand brushes against her skin- she’s freezing. Based on the fact that the blood is still wet I concluded that the seizure must’ve stopped really recently so I lift her up into my arms and head back inside.

As I enter the palace, I see Liam walking down the grand staircase. I see tell by the expression he’s got on his face that’s her scared and panicked. He visibly relaxes when he see’s us. Liam hurries down the rest of the steps and over to us.

“Is she okay?” Liam asked, his voice wavers ever so slightly.

I don’t really know the answer to that question though. I mean, I’m only guessing she had a seizure based on how I found her. I shrug, “I-I just found her outside and- “

“Her sister just called me,” Liam told me, “Casey said that Riley thought she’s going to have a seizure.” Liam held out his arms to me and I gently place Riley in his arms. “She’s freezing.”

We head away from any prying eyes of any of the staff into a nearby drawing room. Liam gently places her down on the floor on her side and takes a blanket off the couch and lays it over her. He then kneels down beside her and slips her jacket, tossing it carelessly to the side. He then slips off her soaking wet shoes and socks, discarding of them in the same way.

“Where was she?” Liam asked as I perched on couch.

“Near the entrance to the maze.” Liam nods and I can sense there’s something going on. Is that any of my business though? Probably not but I can see that whatever is happening, what ever happened is starting to take a toll on him.

He looks like he hasn’t slept. I can see that he’s been crying but his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve never seen him look so..broken before.

“What’s going on, Li?”

I’ve never seen him life this and this has me feeling a little panicky. Liam clear wants to cry, his eyes are welling up to the brim but he’s holding it in. He doesn’t take his gaze off of her as he continues running his fingers through her damp hair.

“She called Casey because,” Liam pauses, his voice cracking, “Because she was afraid to tell me, that I would be mad,” He told me, avoiding my question.

“You know she’s not herself when she’s like this.” I try to reason, “She was just confused, Li.”

Liam doesn’t say anything and I can take the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Riley’s actions have hurt him- that much is obvious.

It’s a couple minutes later when Riley’s eyes start to flutter. I get to my feet and clear my throat to get my friends attention.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Liam gives me an appreciative nod as I take my leave.

(Riley’s POV)

The first thing I notice is the feeling of cold, wet clothes clinging to my body. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I open my eyes fully and notice a hand laying in front of me.

... Where am I?

I soon realise that the hand is mine as i lift a finger. It’s almost like I’m underwater, my hearing is muffled but I can just about hear something....maybe someone....shifting on the floor next to me?

..What’s happening?

I can feel myself beginning to panic. My heart is pounding. Everything seems loud. Why? It’s almost like it’s reverberating as a wall of sound hits my ears. It takes me some time to realise that the only sound other than my breathing and heart beat is a voice? It’s saying words that I don’t understand in my confusion. They’re speaking a language that makes no sense to me right now.

I make my best effort to move away but I barely shift an inch. I’m really trying to escape but I can’t. Why can’t I move? A helpless, scared cry escapes my mouth. I feel terrified as I see the figure move in front of me.

As they shift into my line of vision, their features become clear and the words they’re speaking, the strange language becomes less jumbled and more coherent.

“Love, love come on it’s alright. It’s over now, love. I’m here.” I realise that I know how that voice belongs to. That face.

There’s something about it that feels familiar, safe even. I look up at him, a strand on dirty blonde hair falls over his face that he soon pushes away. “Hey, Riley,” he says, gently. I can see his mouth moving but I’m still not sure who the man is. “It’s Liam.”

Liam- that name….I know that name I realise.

Liam.

I exhale and relax into the hard floor beneath me. He seems to notice my more relax body language and shifts closer to me.

“You had a seizure,” he explains to me. I wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion, the last thing I remember was walking outside. h-how did I end up in here? “Drake brought you inside. It was raining and you were freezing.”

I nod and with his help, I manage to sit myself up. I wipe my mouth, it comes away with a red substance on the back. I’m still a little out of it and I don’t realise that it’s blood.

Everything begins to come back to me- I snapped at Liam. He’s angry at me, he’s upset with me. I accused him of something I know that he’d never do. I look up at him but I can’t read him. He’s angry.

He’s so mad.

My eyes begin to well up. It’s made such a mess out of everything, he’s mad at me, he doesn't love me anymore, he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I shift away from him and he looks almost surprised. Is that worry flashing across his face?

No, no, it can’t be. He’s mad.

“You’re okay, Love,” He tells me. He tries to reach out to me to pull me back over but I continue to shift away, I nearly topple over- I still don’t have full control over everything just yet “You’re okay, Riley,” he tries again, “Everything’s okay.”

It’s not. Nothing is okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay. I’ve made such a colossal mess of everything.

I shake my head at him as tear slips down my cheek. Liam instinctively reaches out to try and brush it away but I move away from him.

I look away from him to take in my surroundings. I looked down realising I’m now missing my jacket, shoes and socks and a blanket is down draped over me. I think back to what Liam had said as some of the puzzle pieces slot back into place. It was raining...I remember that. At least now I under why my clothes are soaking wet.

“Ri,” Liam calls, moving closer to me. I scoot away from him once again. His face falls and I’m pretty sure I can now see his eyes starting to well up. “Please.” He sounds defeated. He sounds scared and upset and that’s all my fault.

I look up at him to see some tears trickle down his face. I want to cry to but why should I be allowed to feel upset? I caused this. This is my doing. I’ve wrecked everything single-handedly.

This is the first time that I’ve really looked at me. There’s big bags under both his eyes, his hair is unkempt, he even looks as if he’s lost a little weight, there’s stubble on his usually clean shaven face.

I’ve broken him. I’ve broken the man that I’m supposed to love and protect.

** It’s a couple hours later. It’s night now and I’ve been tossing and turning in this bed for what seems like hours. Liam and i had both returned to our quarter after that incident. I had headed to bed and had fallen asleep soon after only to wake a short time later and had spent the rest of the day laying in bed staring at the ceiling. I must’ve fallen back into my slumber at some point because I woke back up to find myself wrapped in my husbands arms and him sleeping soundly beside me. That all happens hours earlier though and i still haven’t been able to drift back off enough then I’m exhausted.

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn't feel utterly useless and hopeless. It amazes me how I’ve somehow managed to convince people that I’m okay for years. How I’ve some how managed to convince my family and friends that I’m okay with a fake smile when they are the people who are supposed to know me better than anyone; the people who are supposed to call me out on my bullshit.

Liam is sleeping beside me so I quietly got out of the end and headed down the hall to our home study. I close the door half way and I switch on the desk lamp that sits on the corner of the desk. I plop down into the seat behind the desk and open the notebook sitting in the middle and pick up a pen out of the pit.

Dear Liam,

First things first, this isn't your fault. I need you to know that. I know that you’ll blame yourself but I don’t want you to.

I’m not really sure what to say or how to explain this to you.

Everything is just so hard. Most of the time, I’m able to handle it and keep going with my life without my daily routine being affected too much but not anymore. I’m stuck in possibly the worst depressive episode that I’ve ever been in and I just don’t see a way out, Li.

I know that I should just talk to you but when I try there’s a voice at the back of my mind screaming at me that I’m nothing but a burden to you, my parents, our friends. I’m not sure when I started feeling like this. At some point everything started to feel pointless, I'm just not sure when.

You’ve made me so happy, Liam. I love you. I love that since you found out about my epilepsy you haven’t treated me like a kid or let it define our relationship. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry that I scare you every time it happens. I’m sorry that I lost our baby. I’m sorry that I’ve shut down and pushed you away since it happened. I’m sorry that I’m not the woman that you married or at least I don’t feel like her anymore.

There’s not one reason why I’m doing this. There isn't a clear explanation. So many things have contributed to this but none of them are your fault. If I were to try and explain this feeling to you or my parents or anyone; you’d all say something along the lines of ‘it’ll get better’ ‘this is a long term solution for a short term problem’ or ‘ You’ve still got your entire life ahead of you’- the problem is that I don’t want it. There’s nothing more to it. I just don’t want to be here anymore. It's all just too hard.

I’m sorry; I know this will hurt you for a short while but you’ll move on. You’ll be okay. You’ll be amazing. I promise. I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now but...be happy. That’s all I want.

I love you.

Goodbye, Liam .

I place down the pen and look down at my letter. There’s a couple tears stains on it now but none of the words have been smudged.

I carefully tear out the page from the notebook and get to my feet. I quietly pad down that hall to our bedroom; Liam is thankfully still asleep. I stay in the doorway for a few minutes watching him sleep. In a short few hours he’ll wake up and I’ll be gone.

I place the note down on my bedside table then enter the bathroom that’s conjoined to our bedroom. I quietly closed the door and headed over the sink counter top.

I sniffle and wipe at both my nose and eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I look at my reflection; I look dead already. I don’t look like me...like a human. I don’t recognise myself at all anymore.

I glance away from the mirror and caught sight of the little muti-coloured pill containers just in front of me. It’s like it's screaming out my name, telling me to just down them all and it’ll be over. Take the pills and not wake back up. There’s not a doubt in my mind; I just want it all to stop. I can’t do this anymore- I don't want to. I can’t.

If I do it, Liam will be happy that he won’t have to worry about me anymore. No one will have to spend time and energy worrying about me anymore.

I picked up the container and popped open each little compartment and tipped them into my hand. A couple of them roll out of my hand on fall to the floor but there’s enough in my hand to do the job already.

I placed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. I cough as they nearly get stuck going down my throat. I’m not sure how I feel right now. It’s an indescribable feeling that I can’t quite explain.

I know that It’ll soon be over, I thought I would feel relief but I...I’m scared. I still feel relief because I know that this’ll all be over soon but I’m not so sure that this was the best decision.

I feel regret for a brief moment before I remember why I’m doing this and that feeling ebbs away. This is right decision- I’m positive.

It’s a couple minutes later when I’m startled when I hear someone knocking on the door. I freeze and turn to slowly look at it.

“Riley? Honey, open the door.” That’s my mom. Why does she want? How does she even know it’s me. “Ri, you’ve been in here a long time. Please open the door, so I know you’re okay. Please?”

I forgot she was an night owl- she must’ve been in the living room or something and saw me come in here.

“I- I’m a little busy right now,” I called back. I just hope she’ll buy that and leave me alone. She doesn't need to see this.

Shit- I forget someone will come in here when it’s over and find me. I hadn’t thought of that.

I hear a brief commotion… more voices….more people are outside. Someone bangs on the door. “Riley, open the door.”

That’s Liam. Shit.

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale and beads of sweat are now forming on my forehead.

I don’t feel so good.

I wave my hands in front face to try and cool myself down. I’m so hot.

“Ri, It’s dad, open the door,” My dad pleads, “Honey, please open the door.”

I think someone just rammed into the door. It happens again and the door flies open, the frame splintering. Liam is the first person I see...kind of , my vision is starting to blur. I sway back and forth, I feel so out of it.

“What did you do?!” my dad yells. Somebody is holding me up, I can feel someones arms wrapped around my waist. I think it’s Liam.

I’m dizzy.

I hear my mom let out a sob. “Riley!”

The voices around me, the terrified screams of my family don’t register. I stumble back into my husband’s chest. My knees buckle and I’m vaguely aware of being lowered down onto the floor.

I’m barely aware of what’s going on around me, the flurry of people, nothing makes any sense. All I know is that I don’t feel good and I’m scared.

I’m trying to pay attention to what’s happening but I’m tired. I’m so tired and sleep is calling my name. My eyes flutter shut and I’m consumed by darkness.

#my story #tw sucidal thoughts #tw suicide #tw seizure #tw overdose #tw mention of miscarriage #the royal romance #trr #epilepsy #tw; depression #trr choices #choices #liam x riley #soheila-1996 writes

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despressolattes · 4 years

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CONSEQUENCES | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | LEGACIES/THE ORIGINALS

BOOK THREE IN THE SIDE CHARACTER/LILAH SERIES

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Lilah had felt sluggish when she woke up, and she hadn't shaken the feeling. Everything for the rest of the day just felt off.

An entire summer's worth of looking into Lorelle's revival and the White Oak Coven had gotten the Mikaelsons nowhere.

Lilah felt sluggish when she woke up, and everything just felt off for the rest of the day. Kol and Lilah helped the best they could, the two Mikaelsons still missing their former lives as witches.

"Perhaps we just let it go," Kol suggested, sighing as he shut another grimoire. "Lorelle is alive, this psychotic coven is nowhere to be found, probably dead to resurrect Lorie. Why can't we just leave it be? Why go searching for trouble?"

That was a question that Lilah had been wondering herself. Did she really want to know why the coven resurrected Lorelle, or did she want to know if there was a way to bring back others as well?

"Maybe Kol's right," Davina sighed, stepping away from the table to grab a drink. "We're spending all this time chasing literal ghosts."

Lilah and Freya shared a look. Before Lorelle even came back, the two were trying to see if there was some mystical loophole to bringing back Klaus, Elijah, and Hayley. This coven and Lorelle's revival seemed like the only solid lead they had, but even this one went nowhere.

"Okay, we can break for today," Freya nodded, shutting the grimoire she had been looking into.

Lilah walked up the staircase of the compound towards her bedroom. After she and Rebekah had made amends, Rebekah had gotten sentimental about how Lilah should be living in her family home. On her and Josh's next free day, they emptied their apartment, both of them moving into two of the spare rooms in the compound.

Lilah swung the door to her room open, her eyes settling on the blond. Roman was just lounging on her waiting, as if he was waiting for her to come inside. She smiled at the sight of him, but he was yet another thing that felt off. Any sense of deja vu she had with him around didn't lead to the girl in the photo, only made Lilah more confused about her and the Sienna boy.

Had they have been together before? Or perhaps, he just strongly reminded her of someone she repressed when she was a ripper? The little visions she was having didn't get clearer, instead, they stayed blurry and confusing.

"This is an evasion of privacy, Mr. Sienna," she rolled her eyes at him. She went over to her bed, shoving him a bit to make room for herself. She propped herself down next to him, wondering when she had let herself get so comfortable with a guy. "What's up?"

"Caroline called me a few hours ago," he explained, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and letting her fall into his chest. "There's someone she and Alaric need me to pick up, with school starting and everything."

"Hm, I thought that Alaric guy wasn't headmaster anymore?" she hummed.

"He's not, but he and Caroline still kind of own it? I guess. I don't know, the person I'm going to get is special to them I guess, to their friend group."

She nodded and grabbed one of his hands, just playing with it. "This was fun while it lasted, eh?"

He gave her a look and said, "I'd still like for this to continue to be fun."

"You're going back on the road," she sighed, sitting up. "We can't possibly be together when you're not even here."

"You don't do long distance relationships?" he asked.

"I hardly even do relationships," she shook her head, ignoring the flutter in her heart when he said the word 'relationship.' They hadn't even actually had a real conversation about what they were together, and now he was throwing around the word relationship.

She moved his hair of of his face, staring down at him adoringly. "Like I said Roman, this was fun while it lasted."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"The boy who sweats diamonds is gone, huh?" Freya asked, coming out onto the balcony late that night, and Lilah nodded, taking the cup of coffee that Freya offered her.

Lilah found herself out there often, staring out onto the city. She loved everything about New Orleans, but she felt like this wasn't the place she was meant to be.

"Everything still feels wrong, Aunt Freya," she confessed. "We can't figure out why Lorelle is back, we don't know who the girl in the photos is, and I just feel like something isn't right."

"What part feels wrong?" Freya asked.

"Everything."

"I wish I knew who the girl was, too. She obviously meant something to all of us. Any theories?"

"Mass compulsion?" Lilah shrugged, but she knew that couldn't be it because she, Rebekah, and Kol couldn't be compelled. "I dunno. This seems impossible."

"Our family is the definition fo the impossible being possible."

"Yeah, well, at least before we had explanations for things. Dahlia took us, Grandma Esther turned them, their loophole was a white oak stake, I don't have a loophole. Dahlia kept us apart to prevent you from rebelling against her. Things had explanations," Lilah sighed.

"Not everything," Freya shook her head, wrapping one of her arms around her niece. "You said you still don't know how you got out of that cave."

Lilah's eyes widened for a moment, and she nodded. A thousand years later, and she still had no idea who broke her free of her desiccation. Despite blood on herself and the floor, she had never found a body.

"I think for now, it's okay to just be grateful," Freya said to her. "Not everything needs an explanation, and we might just drive ourselves mad trying to come up with a solution we're never going to find."

"We're the Mikaelsons, we're always going to be mad."

Both of them turned around to see Rebekah standing there with Kol. The remaining Mikaelson siblings walked onto the balcony, Rebekah standing on the other side of Lilah, and Kol on the other side of her.

"You had the promise of always and forever without us even knowing who you were," Rebekah said. "And you'll continue to have it so as long as we live."

"Soon it'll just be the two of us, Lilah Rae," Kol said, his dark joke hitting each of them a little different.

Freya was a witch, she was mortal. Rebekah wanted to take the cure once Damon Salvatore was ready. Davina was a witch. Marcel would likely take the cure as well. Soon, the only thing left would be Kol, Lilah, and hopefully Josh.

"You didn't need to go there tonight, brother," Rebekah laughed, smacking her big brother on the back of his head.

"I'm just saying!"

"Well, stop saying things!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

F I R S T D A Y O F S C H O O L

"Thanks Davina, I appreciate it."

Roman ended the call on his phone, placing it back into his pocket while he drove.

"So, where are we going exactly?"

Arianelle Victoria sticking her head outside of the car since Roman's convertible top was down.

She expected to see signs that said Mystic Falls or even a bridge marked Wickery Bridge, or whatever landmarks her dad once talked about.

"We're going to pick someone up before I take you to a safe place," he replied, "And we have to go fast, first day of school is already today."

She rolled her eyes, pulling her head back into the car.

"And yet we're taking a detour? Aren't we supposed to be in that town my dad grew up in?" she questioned, before saying in a mocking tone, "The wondrous Mystic Falls, from where my mom ran from, and she ran like hell."

Roman glanced at her through the rearview mirror, but didn't respond. Caroline had warned him that the girl might be a bit snarky and sarcastic given her current situation.

"So, who's the girl you were on the phone with? Got a girlfriend?" she asked.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," Roman replied.

"She dump you?"

"Please be quiet," the vampire told her, and she raised her eyebrows with a feigned scared look on her face.

"Jeez, just tryna make conversation. If my dad's sending me here, might as well know what I'm getting in to," she shrugged.

"And what does me being in a relationship prepare you for exactly?"

She shrugged again, leaning back. It felt like hours before they pulled into New Orleans. She was confused, knowing that Lousiana was a long drive away from Mystic Falls. She gawked at the architecture, but stared long and hard at the large building they parked in front of. This place was known for it's Crescent pack, it's witches, it's Bourban, and one thing her dad used to warn her about: The Original family.

Roman pressed his phone to his ear yet again, stating, "We're here."

They waited about ten minutes before a small group of ridiculously hot people walked out. Of the group, a girl was dragging another girl by her upper arm, and one of the guys was carrying out a small luggage.

Roman smiled, getting out of the car to help put the luggage in his back trunk and wrap the girl in his arms. Arianelle watched suspiciously, wondering who these people were. Her eyes landed on the blond adult with pink lipgloss, recognizing her from some photos with her dad. From the stories she learned growing up, she was Rebekah Mikaelson, a vampire her dad was once in love with.

She stared at them in awe once she realized they were the original family—or at least, what was left of it.

The girl that Roman was hugging got into the car, staring back at the blonde girl sitting in the back. Roman joined them after slamming the trunk shut, and there was a knock on the brunette's window. The girl rolled it down, a bald man sticking his head inside.

"You better take care of her, Sienna," the man warned, giving Roman a scary serious stare.

"I will, Marcel," Roman nodded.

Marcel kept his glare on him, staring for a moment longer before nodding and taking his head out of the door. A girl came next, another brunette. She looked she nice and innocent, the smile on her face wide.

"Have fun, Lils," the girl said to the girl inside of the car.

"I can't believe you guys planned to send me away, Davina," laughed the girl in the car.

"It's not sending you away, it's sending you on a trip," a boy said from outside of the car.

"Oh yeah? And how are you going to handle Rousseau's alone?" Lilah asked as Davina moved away from the window, sticking her own head out.

"We'll manage," shrugged Josh.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So, when did this get planned?" Lilah asked Roman as they began on their drive.

"I called Davina, asked her to pack your things," he explained. "You said that your memory loss began when you woke up near Mystic Falls, and since I need to take Arianelle over here to the Salvatore School, might as well see if we can jog up some of your memories."

"Well, I'm glad you did. It's been boring around here without me."

"Did a Mikaelson just tell me that New Orleans was boring? Your dad is rolling in his grave," Roman snickered, shaking his head.

Lilah playfully shoved his shoulder.

Arianelle watched with wide eyes, wondering just who these two were. When her mom had all but threw her into his car, saying he was taking her to a better place, she hadn't imagined that he'd be anyone important other than some supernatural creature that worked for the fancy boarding school. Instead, he's friends with the original family, he knows one of their kids.

She was even more confused, knowing that an Original couldn't have kids. Vampires couldn't even procreate.

As if Lilah felt her eyes on her, she turned around to look at the blonde.

"Sorry for the detour to your new school," Lilah said with a smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Lilah."

"Arianelle," the blonde said sheepishly, pressing her lips to an awkward line. She looked to Roman and said, "I thought you said you don't have a girlfriend."

"I don't," Roman said as Lilah said, "He doesn't."

"She doesn't do relationships," Roman explained to the fifteen year old in the back of his car, glancing at Lialh with a knowing expression.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

They pulled up to a huge campus, parking in front of it. Lilah and Arianelle both gawked at it, for different reasons. Arianelle had heard stories of the things that had gone down in the house or because of the previous owners through her father, but Lilah's expression was sorrowful.

"Normally, there's a welcoming committee, but there's a different headmaster this semester," Roman said as he took off his seat belt, getting out of the car.

The two girls followed after him. The blonde let out an audible groan when she heard a police car approaching. She turned around irritated, watching as a dirty blonde got out of the driver's seat. Why he was still in his police uniform when he was running for mayor of Mystic Falls, she had no idea.

"Aria," he said, sending her a conflicted smile as he got closer.

"Why are you wearing that?" she asked.

"I'm still Sheriff until I get a replacement," he said. "And it's not like I actually have the mayor position just yet."

"Yeah, whatever," she said, spinning on her heels and walking towards the strangers.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," her dad said with a smile. He looked to the two who had driven his daughter, smiling at them. "Matt Donovan."

"Roman Sienna," Roman smiled, shaking his head.

"Lilah Mikaelson," Lilah said, shaking Matt's hand. She saw the surprised look on his face.

"Mikaelson?" he asked.

"Mikaelson."

"Like... Original family Mikaelson?"

"The one and only."

He attempted to regain his posture, a million questioned running through his head about who she was, why they had never heard of another Mikaelson girl, wondering who she was. Instead, he just nodded.

"Let's go find the headmaster, Dorian, and the Saltzman twins, shall we?" Matt questioned, walking towards the school's entrance, a front door that once led to some of his closest friends' house.

He never imagined it would be a boarding school for supernatural, or that he'd ever be sending his daughter there.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Well, her papers seem to be all well, just a day late, but that's all right, she won't be behind in any of her classes" Headmaster Vardemus said, snapping Arianelle's file shut. "Miss Donovan, I can have two students here in a second to escort you to your room and give you a proper Salvatore School welcome."

"I go by Arianelle Victoria," she added, earning a scowl from Matt, but he didn't say anything.

Roman grabbed Lilah by her arm, motioning with his head that they should head out. The two of them walked out of the room, leaving the father-daughter duo with the somewhat creepy headmaster.

The Saltzman twins and Landon were called into the room long after Roman and Lilah had left to the dorm room Roman got to stay in whenever he came by after his recruitment travels.

"So... what are you?" Landon asked, before his eyes widened. He stammered out, "I-I mean, I'm not—I'm not tryna be rude or anything... wow, that was really upfront. I meant... what species are you?"

He scratched the back of his head as they walked through the halls of the school, looking embarassed. Lizzie rolled her eyes, looking at her sister with a ridiculous glare as Josie smiled at Landon's actions.

Seriously, Jo? wondered Lizzie, unable to believe her sister liked Landon of everyone.

"Vampire... witch... werewolf...?" Josie added, aiding Landon in his question, but saying it softer than he had.

Arianelle laughed, and she said, "I'm a werewolf."

And immediately everyone thought about how she killed someone.

"We're gonna need Jed here," Josie said to her sister.

"Raf's alpha," she replied, earning a confused look from the new wolf.

"And he's also stuck in wolf form... soo... I'm with Josie... we'll have to tell Jed," Landon said.

"Of course you're with Josie," Lizzie chuckled.

"So, what's up with Mr. Recruiter and his not-girlfriend?" Arianelle asked.

"Who? Roman Sienna?" asked Lizzie, making a face as she spoke since she was sure Roman was single. "Roman doesn't have a girlfriend."

"There's some girl he picked up on our way here," Arianelle responded.

The twins looked at each other before nodding, "Huh..."

"So, Vampire Captain America finally found a girlfriend, that's interesting," Landon added.

"She's pretty," Arianelle responded, "But oddly quiet."

"Well, first stop, here's our bedroom," Lizzie said, opening a door. "You can always just come here if you need something, chances are, you'll find one of us here."

Arianelle walked inside, looking around at their room. Her eyes zeroed down on a picture frame.

"Oh, you guys know her," Arianelle stated, pointing at the picture. "The girl Roman picked up."

"He brought Lilah Desmarais back with him?" Lizzie asked with surprise, Josie and Landon sharing a confused but rushed expression as they wanted to hear more.

"Uh... She called herself a Mikaelson," Arianelle explained. "But yeah, Roman brought Lilah. Why? Do we not like her?"

"Mikaelson?" sputtered out Josie, and Landon seemed to be in his own world, trying to remember where he had heard that last name.

"She's here, right now?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah...?" Arianelle responded, confused why her tour guides seemed so freaked out over Lilah. She understood the weight of the name Mikaelson, but even her dad hadn't reacted with this kind of proportions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You wanted to see us, Dorian?" Roman asked, walking into the library with Lilah close behind.

Her eyes were bugged out as she took in her surroundings. The Stefan Salvatore Memorial Library. She felt out of breath the whole way, looking at old photos, looking at textbooks. She paused when she got to one about her father, then another, and another, a few about her aunts and uncles as well.

"Yeah," a man said, stepping down from a step ladder and sitting down on one of the tables. "I heard you brought a New Orleans vampire back with you, wondered if I could pick her brain."

"Sure," Lilah nodded, stepping in front of Roman. "What is it that you need help with?"

Dorian stared at her with surprise. He scanned her face up and down, like he had just seen a ghost. It was her, the girl from the files, the girl from the photos. Lilah.

"So, we have this wolf here. He's sort of the alpha of our school's pack. We had some problems last semester, and he had turned into a wolf to help with an attack. We don't really know how he got into his wolf form when it wasn't the night of a full moon, and we also don't know how to bring him back from this form," explained Dorian, shaking his head softly as he tried to get himself to stop staring at her so hard.

Lilah blinked a few times at the information, "I'm sorry... he's been in wolf form this whole time?"

Dorian nodded.

"Did any of the witches put a curse on him?" she questioned, remembering the last time she had heard about a wolf only being in wolf form. "Can he change back into human on the fill moon?"

Dorian shook his head no.

"Okay, well, in my experience with the Cresent Wolf Pack in the bayou... my Uncle Klaus had these reverse kyanite rings made, meant to help a wolf change on command, but it was meant for that specific line of wolves. I don't know the logistics of it all, but I can only assume that whoever gave him a ring like that can be the one to change him back, someone with Crescent blood."

Dorian listened with wide eyes as that information got thrown at him, nodding as he understood what she was trying to say.

"I'm sorry... did you say Uncle Klaus? You're a Mikaelson?" Dorian asked.

She nodded.

"Mass compulsion?" he said under his breath, but with Lilah and Roman's vampire hearing, they heard him.

"Pardon?" Lilah asked.

"Nothing," Dorian shook his head. "Don't mind me, it's nothing. You just... uh... we have files on you... here..."

"What?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

TAGLIST

@akshi8278

people on my wattpad have been asking for a “lilah in tvd” alternate storyline, so i started one! it’s currently only on my wattpad, so let me know if you guys want that story here, too.

you guys asked for a "lilah in tvd" fic, so... I wrote it! To differentiate this alternate storyline from the original one, it's getting it's "own" series name, SIDE CHARACTER CHRONCILES — LILAH DIARIES.

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isidar-mithrim · 4 years

Text

Letters from Hogwarts – Hermione

For more than a thousand years, every summer, in the United Kingdom, the lives of a lucky cluster of eleven years old are radically changed.

These are the stories of four of them.

The fourth is that of a girl rational enough to know she was special, but too rational to admit it.

{Fourth installment of the ‘Letters from Hogwarts’ series, but it stands alone}

{‘Letters from Hogwarts’ on tumblr: Neville, Gus and Remus; on Ao3: Neville, Gus, Remus and Hermione}

________________________________

Thanks so much to @siderumincaelo for betaing this story!! ^^

And happy birthday, Hermione! :D

This is a companion piece of Night in Transylvania (on Ao3), but the stories can be read independently and in whichever order you prefer.

_________________________________

Of Matilda, War and Peace

°1985°

“Excuse me, are you the librarian?”

The man with the white beard behind the counter raised his head, offering Hermione a radiant smile.

“I am,” he said with a little bow. “At your service, milady.”

“I’m looking for a book, sir.”

He winked. “You’re in the right place, then. Do you remember how it’s called?”

“Well, I’m not looking for a specific one, just for one with a real story. I can’t keep reading books for little kids with pictures and nursery rhymes anymore.”

The librarian chuckled with amusement. “You are a bright kid, aren’t you?”

“And a very particular one,” said her mum with a smile, caressing her hair. “It turns out that Elmer the Patchwork Elephant is too simple for her.”

“I finished it in thirteen minutes!” It was obvious that she would have found it simple.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll manage to find a real book that suits you.” The librarian walked around his desk with a delighted expression and gestured for them to follow. “Come, I’ll show you the junior section.”

Hermione nodded, pleased, and she followed him over the stairs, making an effort to keep up with his steps.

“So, young lady, may I ask you how old are you?”

“I’m five years and a half old,” she answered promptly, her chin held high.

The librarian turned toward her, his eyes wide in surprise. “Five years and a half? Then you’re even smarter than I thought!”

“I’m the only one in my classroom that can read proper books,” said Hermione, happy to clear things out. “The other girls still play with their Barbies.”

“Once in a while you could play with them too, Hermione.” Her mum gave her a gentle smile. “There’s nothing wrong in it, and books don’t run away.”

“Oh, well, sometimes our books do!” said the librarian with mirth. “One day they vanish, and they never come back.”

Hermione’s heart missed a beat, and she swallowed hard. “ Vanish? You mean… into thin air?”

Her mum squeezed her shoulder, but the librarian chuckled again. “More like at somebody’s place. I’m afraid not everyone remembers to bring back the books on loan, but I’m sure this won’t be your case.”

Hermione’s heart calmed down. There was nothing to worry about: books couldn’t just vanish in thin air. Nothing could: her teacher had said it very clearly when Julia had made up that her Barbie had suddenly disappeared while she was playing.

“And here we are! This is our junior section.”

Only the label at the entrance distinguished it from the rest of the library: there were shelves upon shelves filled with books, real books, and Hermione nodded in approval.

“Give me a minute to pick something that might intrigue you, then you’ll tell me which story appeals to you the most, okay?”

Hermione stared in awe while the librarian checked rack after rack, grazing the covers with his fingers in search of the right title. Once in a while he stopped to pull out a book: sometimes he nodded satisfied and held it under his left arm, other times he put it back, shaking his head.

He seemed quite pleased when he finally came back to her, laying four books on a little table.

“Et voilà!”

The old man took the first book and showed her the front cover, a picture of a beautiful girl with an aquamarine dress.

“Swan Princess. It’s about a princess cursed by an evil sorcerer and –”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve already seen the animated movie,” cut in Hermione. “And I don’t want a princess story, anyway.”

The librarian raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “No princesses?”

Hermione shook her head, making her bushy hair dance in front of her eyes, and he chuckled with amusement.

“I reckon I should have seen it coming,” he said good-naturedly, winking at her mum. “Now I understand why you said you have a particular daughter.”

Mum smiled. “I knew you’d agree, eventually. I should have warned you that at the moment princesses aren’t her cup of tea.”

Hermione huffed, annoyed. How many times did she have to explain to her mum that she didn’t like that kind of stuff anymore? “It’s not my fault if princess stories are all the same.”

“I can see your point,” agreed the librarian. “I won’t waste your time suggesting this novel, then.” He moved the second book at the bottom of the pile and picked the third one. “This is The Secret Garden. It’s about a girl that finds out how to sneak into a garden and starts exploring it with her friend Colin. What do you say, think this might suit you?”

Hermione studied carefully the drawing on the cover. In the middle of the page, a girl with curly blonde hair and a red coat was peering through a hedge.

“Maybe,” she conceded with a hint of curiosity. She wanted to see the last book as well, before making a decision.

The librarian clapped his hands cheerfully. “Particular, and prudent! In all frankness, I think you’re right to be cautious, because it’s time to see my fourth – well, third – recommendation.” He leant closer and spoke in a whisper, his hand around his mouth as he was confiding her a secret. “And I assure you it’s no coincidence that I kept it for last.”

He held the book in front of her with a certain reverence. A girl with straight brown hair and fair skin sat on a wooden box with a big volume opened on her legs, and piles and piles of coloured books rose from the ground around her.

And just like that, Hermione knew.

“It’s the story of –”

“I’ll take this one.”

The librarian gave her a bright smile. “I knew you’d pick Matilda. Or maybe I should say the book picked you…”

°1991°

June

“It’s about a witch that falls in love with a vampire, and there are werewolves too! It’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Fardly,” said Mrs Stendeer, writing down the title on the blackboard. “Granger?”

“Well, I believe spending the summer reading about children’s fantasies such as sorcerers, unicorns and vampires would be a real waste of time, since these things don’t exist,” stated Hermione. “I’d rather suggest trying out War and Peace. A light reading, I finished it in eight days.”

The teacher gave her a strained smile before writing the title below Night in Transylvania, then she turned again toward the class.

“Mitchell, what do you propose?”

“So, how many votes for Night in Transylvania? Five… ten… Castark, is that a raised hand? Then thirteen… fifteen… twenty-one!” Mrs Stendeer wrote down the number beside the title. “It seems you were very convincing, Fardly.”

Hermione huffed loudly, trying at the same time to convey all her disapproval and to ignore the excited giggles of her classmates.

“Now, how many votes for War and Peace?”

It was definitely harder to remain indifferent to the scornful laughs that broke out when she raised her hand, but Hermione held her arm up until the teacher had written ‘one’ beside War and Peace.

When the last bell of the year rang in the halls, her classmates screamed like little kids and rushed to the door, shoving each other in their haste to leave.

Hermione looked away and her eyes caught the line she had just written down.

Homework for the summer: read ‘Night in Transylvania’ by Stacey Moore.

She slammed her homework planner shut and shoved it in her packed schoolbag. After standing up, she slung the heavy backpack on her shoulders, adjusting the straps to balance the weight better.

“Have a good summer, Mrs Stendeer,” she said with cold courtesy.

“Thank you, Hermione.” The teacher took a deep breath, and for a moment Hermione thought she was about to add something meaningful.

She was clearly wrong, though, because “Good summer to you too,” was everything Mrs Steender deigned to add.

Hermione gave her with a curt nod, and walked out of the door.

Jayne was twelve years old and she had long black hair, intense blue eyes and a petite figure. In short, on the surface she was a girl like every other, if it wasn’t for a tiny detail.

Jayne was a witch.

While the other mothers taught her friends how to cook, her mum made her brew magic potions; while her classmates learned to dance, she studied spells to move objects. While normal girls’ only worry was not to get their clothes dirty, she trained to hunt vampires.

Hermione closed the book with an abrupt thump.

She hadn’t finished the first page yet, and she already hated it.

How silly, she thought with deep annoyance. Nobody can move objects without touching them. Nobody, not with their thoughts, not with magic.

“Magic doesn’t exist,” she said through gritted teeth. Of that she was sure: magic only existed in books – books for stupid kids.

Six days had gone by since the last time Hermione had opened Night in Transylvania, but now that she had finished Les Misérables she had run out of excuses to procrastinate her assigned reading.

She took the book from her bedside table and sat down at her desk. She usually read on her bed, but she wasn’t going to qualify something this insipid as ‘reading’.

It’s homework, Hermione told herself. And homework shouldn’t be done in bed.

After finding where she had left off, she heaved a long, resigned sigh and began reading.

Because that was her family’s specialty. Hunting vampires was an art they passed on from mother to daughter for generations, and it would continue until all the vampires in Transylvania were eradicated.

Her mother had very similar features: she had the same bushy brown hair, the same hazelnut eyes and even the same protruding front teeth.

Hermione froze, her heart beating loudly inside her chest. Her eyes feverishly skimmed over the last sentence and then went back to gaze at the first lines.

Hermione was eleven years old and she had bushy brown hair, intense hazelnut eyes and protruding front teeth. In short, on the surface she was a girl like every other, if it wasn’t for a tiny detail.

Hermione was a witch.

She dropped the book like it was burning hot, and jumped from her chair in shock when it actually caught fire.

“Please, go out, go out!” she squealed, horrified. “Please, please, stop!”

A moment later, there was only a pile of ashes on the unmarked desk.

Hermione looked at it in bewilderment, her breath still ragged.

As if by magic, the little fire had died out, even faster than it had flared up.

No, not by magic, rectified Hermione, taking a deep breath. The fire extinguished itself only after consuming the whole book, or maybe the wind put it out.

And yet, the window was closed. Hermione opened it to let in fresh air, even if she couldn’t sense any burning smell, then she lifted her bin near the edge of the desk and swept the ashes inside with trembling hands, fighting the urge to wipe her silent tears.

This time it was going to be much harder to persuade herself that it was all a dream.

°1985°

By the age of one and a half her speech was perfect and she knew as many words as most grown-ups. The parents, instead of applauding her, called her a noisy chatterbox and told her sharply that small girls should be seen and not heard.

By the time she was three, Matilda had taught herself to read by studying newspapers and magazines that lay around the house. At the age of four, she could read fast and well and she naturally began hankering after books. The only book in the whole of this enlightened household was something called Easy Cooking belonging to her mother.

Hermione was immediately won over by Matilda’s incredible abilities.

I wish I was that clever, she thought with a hint of envy.

An instant later, though, she felt terribly guilty. It must have been horrible for Matilda to have parents like that.

One and half pages later, Hermione had understood two things.

One, that her next book had to be The Secret Garden, since Matilda herself had read it.

Two, that she didn’t want to be Matilda anymore.

She would have much, much preferred having her as a friend.

That afternoon Hermione devoured page after page without ever stopping, except to write down the books Mrs Phelps recommended.

As she read, she was indignant over the dishonesty of Matilda’s father, warmed by Miss Honey’s kindness, enraged by Trunchbull’s hammer throw, impressed by Bruce Bogtrotter’s resilience, and when dinner time came, she hadn't even realised she was hungry.

Hermione ate in a hurry and then crawled under the covers.

She was laying on her stomach with the book on the pillow when the story took an unexpected turn.

Slowly Matilda sat down. Oh, the rottenness of it all! The unfairness! How dare they expel her for something she hadn’t done!

Matilda felt herself getting angrier . . . and angrier . . . and angrier . . . so unbearably angry that something was bound to explode inside her very soon.

The newt was still squirming in the tall glass of water. It looked horribly uncomfortable. The glass was not big enough for it. Matilda glared at the Trunchbull. How she hated her. She glared at the glass with the newt in it. She longed to march up and grab the glass and tip the contents, newt and all, over the Trunchbull’s head. She trembled to think what the Trunchbull would do to her if she did that.

The Trunchbull was sitting behind the teacher’s table staring with a mixture of horror and fascination at the newt wriggling in the glass. Matilda’s eyes were also riveted on the glass. And now, quite slowly, there began to creep over Matilda a most extraordinary and peculiar feeling. The feeling was mostly in the eyes. A kind of electricity seemed to be gathering inside them. A sense of power was brewing in those eyes of hers, a feeling of great strength was settling itself deep inside her eyes. But there was also another feeling which was something else altogether, and which she could not understand. It was like flashes of lightning. Little waves of lightning seemed to be flashing out of her eyes. Her eyeballs were beginning to get hot, as though vast energy was building up somewhere inside them. It was an amazing sensation.

The description was written so well that even Hermione could feel that warm, electric sensation in her own eyes. She went right back to reading, filled with curiosity.

She kept her eyes steadily on the glass, and now the power was concentrating itself in one small part of each eye and growing stronger and stronger and it felt as though millions of tiny little invisible arms with hands on them were shooting out of her eyes towards the glass she was staring at.

“Tip it!” Matilda whispered. “Tip it over!”

She saw the glass wobble. It actually tilted backwards a fraction of an inch, then righted itself again.

She kept pushing at it with all those millions of invisible little arms and hands that were reaching out from her eyes, feeling the power that was flashing straight from the two little black dots in the very centres of her eyeballs.

“Tip it!” she whispered again. “Tip it over!”

Once more the glass wobbled. She pushed harder still, willing her eyes to shoot out more power. And then, very very slowly, so slowly she could hardly see it happening, the glass began to lean backwards, farther and farther and farther backwards until it was balancing on just one edge of its base. And there it teetered for a few seconds before finally toppling over and falling with a sharp tinkle on to the desk-top. The water in it and the squirming newt splashed out all over Miss

When Hermione moved her gaze to the next word, a patch of water started expanding on the page, blurring all the letters.

Hermione looked at it with horror. The book from the library! she thought in despair, blowing on the paper in the faint hope to make things better.

Dry up, dry up, please dry up!

That’s when the book caught fire.

Hermione squealed and threw it on the ground, grabbing a slipper and hitting the book with it. Go out, go out!

With a last hit, the fire went out.

Hermione leant against her bed to catch her breath, but any chance to calm down vanished as soon as she saw the state the book was in. How am I going to explain it to the librarian? she wondered with anguish.

A moment later, she heard the door opening, and with a quick push she sent the book beneath the bed before her mum could see it.

“Hermione!” she exclaimed with worry, rushing at her side to help her get up and gently rubbing her back. “What happened, darling?”

“Just… just a dream.” Hermione’s voice was trembling, in part because of what happened, in part because of the lie and the ruined book hidden beneath her.

“Did you fall from the bed?”

“I… I think so...”

“Don’t worry, honey. Everything is fine now.” She gently kissed her forehead, and Hermione felt a bit relieved. “Now get under the covers, so I can tuck you in.”

Hermione lay on her side and hugged the pillow, letting Mum fuss over her. Her heart was still pounding, so she made a conscious effort to breathe slower. Even if her mind kept running to the ruined book beneath the bed, Mum’s soothing caresses helped her calm down.

She was finally drifting off when Mum kissed her forehead and stood up.

“What is this?” she asked a moment later, reaching down to grab something at her feet.

Hermione jerked awake and watched in horror while her mother picked up the book.

When Hermione saw it, though, her horror turned into astonishment.

Mum smiled knowingly, glancing at her bedside lamp. “You fell asleep while reading, didn’t you?” She held the undamaged copy of Matilda in front of her. “Would you like me to read it to you until you fall asleep?”

Hermione shook her head, unable to speak.

“Good night, then,” wished Mum, before turning down the lamp and leaving the room, closing the door behind her with a low click.

As soon as the sound of her steps faded away, Hermione turned on the light, eager to understand how the book could look as new.

She grabbed it and turned it over in her hands, flippin through the pages: not a patch of water, not a single word washed-out, not a corner blackened by the fire.

The book looked as if nothing had happened.

She focused on the cover, and froze when she recognised herself as the girl of the picture. She shut her eyes, and a moment later Matilda was back, lost in thought.

Clearly, it had really been just a dream… After all, only in fairytales little girls were smart enough to make things happen with their mind.

In that instant, Hermione decided that the next time she would give the librarian even more specific instructions: no princesses and, most importantly, no magic.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #harry potter #hermione granger #young hermione granger #mrs granger #mr granger #granger family #minor original characters #letters from hogwarts #pre-hogwarts #missing scene #matilda #the secret garden #library #long post #two-chapters story #happy birthday hermione!

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mfingenius · 5 years

Note

Omg I love your writings Could you please write more of teenager Laurent and his massive crush on Damen?

Laurent has a routine. Wake up, shower, go to school, go to Auguste’s high school and sit on the bleachers, waiting for his practice to be over, and then go home.

The first few weeks, Laurent would sit on the bleachers and do homework, or read his book. He’d be productive; then Damianos Akielos caught his eye. Now, Laurent sits on the bleachers with his cheeks permanently red, holding a book he’s not reading a word of to try to disguise the fact that he can’t seem to stop staring at the fucking giant.

He’s in Auguste’s year, but they’re not particularly close, Laurent knows. He hasn’t dared speak a word of it to Auguste. He’s never liked anyone before, and Auguste would tease him and most likely laugh and it’d be mortifying.

Plus, it’ll go away. It’s not like Auguste and Damianos are friends. Summer Vacation is just four weeks away, and after that, Laurent doesn’t have to see Damianos again for three entire months. It’ll be fine.

“Hey, Laurent,” Auguste ruffles his hair, and Laurent flinches, having not noticed him coming. He scowls and bats his brother’s hand away, and Auguste laughs and reaches for his water bottle. “It’s over.”

“Finally,” Laurent says, even though he’s a little disappointed. Damianos didn’t take his shirt off today. “You stink.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Auguste’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, but he’s smiling. “I’m going to shower. I just wanted to tell you Damen is coming over for dinner.”

Laurent freezes. His cheeks, which had already been pink, immediately go scarlet. ”Why?”

Auguste frowns. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Laurent says, both mortified and impatient. “Why is he coming over for dinner?”

Auguste’s frown deepens. “Because we’re friends? Do you not like him?”

Laurent’s cheeks heat further. “No! I - I don’t know him. I don’t care for him.”

“Hey,” And then Damianos is right there, closer than Laurent’s ever been to him, and Laurent feels like he’s going to have a heart attack with how fast his heart is beating.

“Hey,” Auguste says, still frowning lighlty at Laurent. “Damen, this is my brother Laurent. Laurent, this is Damen.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Damianos has a dimple. He has a very noticeable dimple on his left cheek and Laurent spends almost an entire thirty seconds staring at it before he realizes Damianos is holding his hand out.

“Yes,” Laurent says, shaking his hand feebly. Damianos is very very warm. “Uh-huh.” His brain seems to finally start working again and he looks away. “I - I mean - a - a pleasure to meet you, too.”

Realization dawns on Auguste’s face, and a smile begins to spread. Laurent glares at him desperately.

“You stink,” he repeats, putting as much venom into his voice. “And I’m not getting into a care with you when you smell like that. Go shower.”

Auguste is still laughing when he walks away, Damianos confused by his side.

Laurent tries to get the blush off his cheeks by pressing Auguste’s ice cold water bottle against his them, and it works. He stands and picks up his books, putting his backpack on his shoulder again, the methodical routine only marginally calming his nerves.

It’s alright, he reminds himself. Auguste always spends the longest time in the shower, we have time.

Turns out Auguste chose that exact day to only take about twenty minutes before Laurent sees him and Damianos coming over again. He has a very smug smirk on his face, and Laurent wants desperately to wipe it off.

“We can go now,” He says, and Laurent - non-accidentally - steps on his foot as he passes by him. Auguste merely laughs again.

The ride back to the house is not awkward for anyone but Laurent. He sits in the back seat and tries his best to pretend Damianos isn’t in the front seat, which proves impossible when Auguste is talking to him - and his voice is simply the best thing Laurent’s heard in his life - and trying to drag Laurent into the conversation.

Laurent simply hums, or gives dry answers, thoroughly planning in his head how he is going to throttle Auguste when Damianos leaves.

When they pull up at the house, Laurent runs up to his room, only for his mother to catch his collar before he gets up the stairs.

“Whoa there, little hellcat,” she laughs, kissing his cheek. “Why the rush?”

“Nothing,” Laurent mumbles.

“We’re home, mom,” Auguste calls from downstairs. “I brought Damen for dinner.”

“Oh, we have a guest!” His mother smiles. She likes having people in the house, as does Auguste, both unlike Laurent. Laurent hates people in the house; it always feels far too invasive, which is why he always locks his room when Auguste has people over. “You know it’s rude to be locked in your room when we have a guest, little hellcat.”

Laurent bites back a groan. It was why he wanted to get to his room as quick as possible. “But mom-”

“But nothing, Laurent.” Hennike says. “Come on, it’ll be fine. It’s one of Auguste’s friends. We can order pizza.”

Which is how Laurent ends up in the dining table, sitting across from Damianos with permanently burning cheeks, nibbling at his piece of pepperoni pizza.

“You’re very red,” Damianos observes, and Laurent’s blush spreads to his ears. “Are you alright? Do you have a fever?”

“He’s fine,” Auguste says, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“You do look very red, honey,” His mother frowns, pressing a hand against his forehead. “Do you feel alright?”

Unbelievably embarrassed, but sure, he feels alright.

“I’m fine.” Laurent says, voice wobbly. He clears his throat when Auguste laughs silently.

“Auguste, will you help me bring dessert?” he grits out.

“I’m sure Damen can help you,” Auguste smirks, and Laurent glares tightly.

“Yes, I can-” Damianos is already standing up, and Laurent panics.

“No!” He says. Everyone looks at him, and his blush is starting to be painful. “I mean, I need Auguste’s help. Because... I - need... to...” he desperately scrambles for what to say. “I need to speak to him. About things.”

And he grabs Auguste’s arm and drags him away, laughing. Once he’s in the kitchen, he turns around and slaps his chest repeatedly, making Auguste laugh harder until he begins pinching him, which is when Auguste grabs his wrists to stop him.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he says, laughter not quite finished. “What did you do that for?”

“What did I do that for?” Laurent whisper-yells. “What the fuck are you doing? Stop laughing!”

He slaps Auguste on the shoulder, and Auguste’s laughter finally stops. He’s still grinning though.

“No cursing.” He says sternly, and Laurent rolls his eyes. Though they’re only five years apart, without their father around and their mother almost always working, Auguste had a huge part in Laurent’s upbringing. He still takes it seriously, even if Laurent is thirteen and not a child anymore. “And I’m not doing anything! I just think it’s cute that you have a crush on Damen.”

“I do not have a crush on Damianos!” Laurent snaps, grabbing the ice cream from the fridge. Auguste shoots him a knowing look, and Laurent glowers. “And if you laugh again, I will throw Ice cream at you.”

“I’d like to see you try, baby brother.” Auguste grins, grabbing the other tub of ice cream from the fridge. “I bet you hit Damen.”

Auguste leaves the kitchen before Laurent can snap at him again, and Laurent stomps his foot in frustration. He takes a minute to calm himself and goes back into the dining room, putting the ice cream, spoons, and bowls on the table before taking his seat.

“What flavor does everyone want?” Auguste asks, taking the lid off the ice cream.

Hennike eats vanilla - same as always - Laurent eats mint-chocolate chip, and Auguste chocolate fudge. Laurent hates Vanilla and Chocolate fudge, Auguste can’t stand mint-chocolate, and Hennike is allergic to cacao, which is why they always have those three flavors.

Damianos picks mint-chocolate, and, though it’s nothing to do with Laurent, he feels oddly proud of himself.

Laurent gets through dinner without embarrassing himself entirely, miraculously. When Auguste leaves to drive Damianos home, Laurent sits on the couch with his mother, and she smiles lightly.

“So,” she says. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Laurent’s cheeks darken again.

“Is he?” Laurent asks in a disinterested tone. “I didn’t notice.”

“Oh, baby.” Hennike runs a hand through his hair. “You will. Believe me.”

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

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affectionatehannibal · 5 years

Text

the haunting of bill denbrough

prologue

George Denbrough had been dead five long years the night he woke his brother Bill up at one in the morning.

For just a moment, in the split second it took for Bill’s eyes to adjust to the darkness and remind his brain exactly where he was, Bill was thirteen again and Georgie was alive. Around that time of their lives, Georgie had woken Bill up quite often in the middle of the night, searching for somewhere safe from whatever lay waiting for him in the dark and someone brave and strong, someone like Bill, to protect him from it. Bill would make a scene- they were getting too old to sleep together, really- but they both knew sooner or later Bill would roll his eyes a final time and pull aside the covers, making room for Georgie to join him.

The Georgie that stood beside Bill’s bed now looked scared enough for this scenario to be true. His eyes, heavy with fear and wet with tears he seemed to be desperately trying to keep from spilling out, were wide against his pale skin. Bill had seen this look many times; it was the face of a child who has fallen off their bike unexpectedly and, by skinning their knee, suddenly realized that they are not invincible. Overall, Georgie’s expression was a familiar one. But there was something else in his face too, something that woke Bill up completely and increased the tempo of his heartbeat by a couple dozen beats.

Fear.

Not any type of fear- not the kind that used to bring Georgie running to Bill’s room in the middle of the night, nor the kind that prompted Bill to check under his bed every now and then before bed, just to make sure nothing was hiding there. The fear in Georgie’s eyes was the kind that made a heavy nest in your stomach and stayed there forever, or as long as you had left to feel things, anyway. It was powerful enough to break your mind into tiny pieces. Bill had seen this fear reflected on the faces of his friends many times during the summer they’d delved deep into Derry’s sewer system. And he saw it written plainly across Georgie’s face now.

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Georgie’s eyes, wide and troubled, were filled with it. It was as though, if Bill looked really hard, he might see Georgie’s last memories reflected there. His last memories, ones of clowns and sewers and a brother who’d pretended to be sicker than he really was so he wouldn’t have to spend a second longer with his annoying, god-awful little sibling.

Bill shot up, heart pounding painfully in his chest. Reality took hold and screamed dead dead dead your fault into his ears. The real Georgie was miles below where Bill sat now, probably already rotted down to the bone, surrounded by the other dead children of Derry. Georgie was dead. This could be a dream, a hallucination, the aftereffects of the really shitty weed he’d shared with Beverly the day before, but it could not really be Georgie. And yet, some hopeful part of Bill’s heart begged for it to be real, one more chance to hold his brother. He frantically rubbed whatever sleep was left from his eyes, sure Georgie would be gone when he looked again with fresh eyes.

But Georgie stayed put, looking as frightened and pitiful as before.

God, Bill thought. I’d almost forgotten what he looked like.

And it really did look like Georgie, whatever stood beside Bill’s bed in a yellow raincoat and muddied jeans. He looked much smaller, much more fragile, than he had seemed to Bill in life, but, other than that, everything was the same. His eyes were deep and trusting, the same warm brown they’d been the day he’d died. His hair was light and mussed, almost like he’d forgotten to brush it. His mouth was turned downwards, like he was on the verge of crying. Georgie’s face, familiar and sad and trusting, pulled at the walls around Bill’s heart and threatened to overwhelm him with grief and guilt.

“Jesus,” he choked, vision blurry. He hadn’t cried in a very long time, and it was as though his tear ducts were trying to make up for lost time by producing as many tears as they possibly could. They made quick tracks down his cheeks, rolling off his face and onto his sheets. He wiped them away as best he could and reached towards his bedside table, careful not to touch whatever stood there borrowing his brother’s face, and turned on the lamp. He winced once as the lamp flooded the room with warmth and light, and once more when he saw Georgie’s face, no longer half-hidden by darkness. The light shone on the dark circles around his eyes, showed how sunken and bruised his features really were. His skin was a sickly, unhealthy color that reminded Bill of cigarette smoke and crummy gas station bathrooms.

“Oh, jesus,” Bill’s voice was strangled, and he fought to keep sudden, panicked sobs from tearing their way out of his throat. “Georgie?”

The thing that might be Georgie slowly lifted a hand towards Bill in response, palm upwards as though asking for something.

“Holy-” Bill choked. He scrambled backwards, fighting to untangle himself from his sheets and blankets. He fell gracelessly off the bed, hitting his tailbone painfully on the hardwood floor.

Georgie was dead. Long, long dead. Whatever this was wasn’t here to crawl into Bill’s bed and complain that Bill’s feet were too cold, or be shushed by their parents for laughing too loudly so late at night. It was here to hurt, to taunt. To remind Bill of something that was, hopefully, as dead as Georgie.

Bill fumbled in the semi-darkness for the baseball bat he kept under his bed, hands exploring the dusty darkness frantically. After a few long moments he pulled it out and stood quickly, pointing it forcefully in the thing’s direction.

“We-we killed you,” Bill demanded, as though saying it was enough to make it true. It had been so long since he’d seen It in anything other than his nightmares; and now, looking at Georgie, he wondered for a quick moment why they’d been so scared of It all those years ago. Whatever stood by Bill’s bed did not ooze hate and evil and otherness like It did in his dreams. This thing was sad and lonely and afraid, but not evil. Still, what else could it be, if not It? “Y-y-y-y-you’re duh-duh-duh-duh-, we k-k-killed you!”

Georgie blinked slowly in reply.

“You’re s-s-s-supposed to buh-buh-be d-d-dead,” Bill coughed. He wiped away the snot that had started dripping and bubbling from his nose.

He heard his parents stir in the next room over at the same time his phone started ringing. His parents weren’t a problem; they wouldn’t come in to check on him if they woke up, and even if they did they wouldn’t be able to see whatever was standing by his ball. The phone call, on the other hand, managed to pry his attention away from whatever was impersonating his dead brother so perfectly. There were only six people in the world who might call him this late at night, and nothing would keep him from answering.

---

Just a few blocks away, Richie Tozier was busy losing a match of Mario Tennis Aces.

It would have been embarrassing if anyone had been there to see it, but he was, thankfully, very much alone. He sat on the edge of his bed, wearing only a ratty pair of boxers and an extra-large t-shirt he’d found hidden in the back of Ben’s closet. The blue glow emanating from his TV screen was beginning to hurt his eyes; he took a quick swig of Mountain Dew to combat the discomfort.

Nighttime had never been kind to Richie; he blamed his current losing streak on that fact. Along with bad luck in digital tennis matches, nighttime brought sleep, and sleep brought nightmares. Amongst the Losers, nightmares were nothing new. It seemed that they were the price you paid to battle a demonic clown and escape unscathed. Overall, it was much easier to stay awake as late as possible and risk falling asleep in AP Bio for the umpteenth time than revisit his one and only trip through Derry’s sewer system every fucking time he closed his eyes.

He was just getting ready to give his remote control a quick good luck kiss before the next round began when a sudden, rapid banging on his window almost made him soil the only clean pair of boxers he had left.

“Holy shit,” Richie gasped. The contents of his stomach threatened to make a panicked appearance; Richie quickly choked them back down. The source of the noise knocked again, impatiently. Richie sighed, but a slow, easy smile made its way across his face. He leaned across his bed, stretching to open the window. He watched Stanley Uris crawl through it and smiled some more as Stan dusted himself off. “Gimme some warning next time, will ya? I almost shit my pants.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Stan mumbled. His shoulders, tense with something- Richie guessed anxiety- slowly relaxed the longer he stood in Richie’s room. Stan bent down to unit his shoes and take off his socks, placing them neatly against the wall. Richie watched him work in silence. It made his heart do summersaults in his chest to see Stan the way he was now- flushed from the bike ride over, hair tangled by sleep and wind, soft and warm in his flannel pajama pants and cotton t-shirt.

Stan said nothing when he was done, just stood quietly, solemnly considering the boy sitting before him. Richie gave him a moment to get whatever he needed from the silence between them and Stan soaked it up, slowly unclenching his jaw and shaking out the nerves that had settled in his fists.

Eventually, Stan sighed, slow and grateful, and Richie decided it was alright to speak. “What’s crackin’, baby doll?”

Stan grimaced. “Bad dream.”

“Same one?”

“Always the same.”

Richie hummed his displeasure and opened his arms, inviting Stanley to fill the space between them. Stan made his way towards them gratefully, crawling into Richie’s lap and leaning his head against Richie’s chest. Richie ran a hand through Stan’s hair, soft and gentle. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe next time.”

Richie hummed again. Stan always said that, and so far they had never talked about it. “Want some Mountain Dew?”

Stan rolled his eyes, even though Richie couldn’t see his face. “No, thanks. But I’d take something stronger if you had it.”

Richie grinned and gave the top of Stan’s head a quick kiss. “I think I might have somethin’ like that,” he leaned across the bed, careful to keep Stan safely balanced in his lap, to grab his phone. “Let’s get Big Bill over here, while we’re at it.”

“No,” Stan snatched the phone from Richie’s hands and held it close to his chest. Sleep wasn’t something any of them could take lightly, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to steal a single second of it from Bill. “Don’t wake him up.”

“Come on, you know he hates missing out on stuff. He can always sleep once he gets here if he wants to.”

Their eyes locked and Richie grew suddenly seriously; a battle had begun. Stan figured they were too old to keep using staring contests to settle disputes. Richie said they were too old to let sacred traditions die so flippantly. In the end, they usually served Stan’s interests anyway; he could hold a glare with the best of ‘em. A few long moments passed; the air thick with concentration. And then Richie did what he usually did when he knew he couldn’t win- cheated.

Stan furiously blinked Richie’s sudden stream of warm, wet air out of his eyes. “I hate you,” he glared, hiding a grin, and held out the phone.

Richie laughed a happy, victorious laugh and gave Stan another kiss, this one on his forehead. Perhaps his nighttime losing streak was over at last; if this night was going anyway like he thought it was, he was going to get lucky two times over.

Pretty much everything about the three of them was built on luck. Luck, and a whole lot of hard fucking work. There were no guidebooks on how to date two of your best friends at once, no polyamorous trailblazers to show them the way. There was nothing, no one to tell them how to do this wonderful, lovely thing between the three of them. It was messy and hard sometimes, but god if it wasn’t good. All things considered, Richie thought they were doing pretty well for themselves.

He smiled softly and wildly into Stanley’s hair as he dialed Bill’s number.

---

Bill used the bat to keep at least three feet between him and Georgie as he walked slowly to the other side of the bed, towards the bedside table where his phone sat.

He struggled to pick it up, hands shaking, and cursed quietly when he almost hung up accidentally. “Huh-huh-ello?”

“Billy boy!” Richie sang, too excited to notice that Bill’s stutter, which normally took a siesta whenever he was talking to someone he loved, had returned full force. “Get your ass over here; we’re having an impromptu fiesta, just me, you, and-.”

“Ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh-Richie.” Bill interrupted. His body filled with relief at the sound of Richie’s voice, so much so that the bat almost slipped out of his hand. Here was someone who could understand, who might be able to help. He held his phone tight against his ear, as if doing so would transport him closer to Richie, away from whatever nightmare he was stuck in now.

Richie said something quick to someone that wasn’t Bill, his voice muffled and far-away. He sounded worried when he turned his attention back to Bill, like it had finally hit him that something wasn’t quite right. “Yeah, Bill, it’s me. What’s wrong?”

“I-I-I,” he stammered, eyes locked on his dead brother. “I-I th-th-th-think Guh-Guh-Georgie i-i-is in m-m-muuhhh-my r-r-room.”

“Fuck, Bill, I can hardly understand a word you’re saying. Did you-did you say something about Georgie?”

Bill flinched, like someone had just made as if to slap him. He hadn’t heard anyone say that name aloud in years. “H-h-h-h-h-h-hhhhh-,” he took a frantic breath, as if that would dislodge the word stuck in his throat. “Fuck, R-Richie, G-g-g-Georgie’s in m-my fucking ruh-uh-room.”

Richie said something else to whoever was in the room with him. They seemed to argue for a short moment which seemed impossibly long to Bill. “Hey, Bill? Don’t move. We’re on our way.”

The line went dead.

---

“Why did you hang up?” Stan spat, trying for the fifteenth time to reach Bill again. “He’s not picking up the phone.”

Despite being walking distance away from Bill’s house, they’d quickly decided to borrow (steal was a better word, as Richie was banned from driving it) Richie’s mother’s car. It whined loudly as Richie forced it faster and faster through the darkened streets toward Bill’s house.

“Chillax, Stanley,” Richie spat back, voice much less poisonous than Stan’s had been, obviously not chillaxing himself. He leaned forward in his seat, knuckles white around the wheel, as if worrying would help them get there faster. “Big Bill knows how to take care of himself. Whatever’s goin’ on, he’ll be alright.”

Stan shot a quick look of incredulous disbelief in Richie’s direction. It was the kind of look he usually saved for those students of Derry High with less common sense than a bucket of dying paint. It screamed: Are you an idiot? Stan himself screamed nothing and simply tried Bill’s number again.

No answer.

Richie urged the speedometer forward.

---

Already a few streets away, Bill Denbrough was busy ignoring the fact that he’d been told to stay put.

He’d made up his mind even before Richie had finished talking that he had to leave, to put as much distance between himself and whatever was in his room as possible. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the look of fear and desperation on Georgie’s face, even if it wasn’t really Georgie he was looking at.

Georgie had followed as he’d stumbled out of the room, and Bill could see him now, standing in solemn silence at the end of their driveway. The absolute silence scared Bill more than anything else. In life, Georgie had been anything but silent. Contemplative, sometimes. But never quiet. Bill almost wished the thing that looked like Georgie would call after him, tell him to stop, something. But Georgie did nothing but watch him and Silver wobble unsteadily for a moment, his frightened gaze following Bill’s form as he made his way down the street.

Bill’s legs and arms knew where they were going before Bill did. Silver took them quickly to their destination, and Bill hopped off the seat before the bike had any time to slow down. He tripped over one of the wheels and fell to the concrete, Silver landing on top of him. He grunted in pain, loose gravel digging its way into the sides of his bare arms.

Bill looked up; he was on eye level with the sewer drain Georgie had spent his last moments crouched before. It did not mock or taunt or scream haha! I killed your brother! like Bill expected it to. It just sat, inconspicuously, like most sewer drains tended to do.

He pushed Silver off of him and scrambled forward. He braced himself against the concrete, poking his head into the sewer as far as the laws of mass and physical space would allow.

---

Stan and Richie were more surprised than they should have been to find Bill’s room empty.

Stan poked around the room methodically, looking for any evidence of what had happened, anything to clue them in on what was going on. Richie swallowed the shitty Sherlock Holmes joke working its way up his throat and fidgeted nervously in the doorway.

Stan picked up Bill’s phone, which sat on the bed, and frowned at it. “I don’t think he’s here.”

“I dunno, have you checked the bathroom? Maybe he’s taking a shit.”

Stan ignored him. “Where would he have gone? His truck’s still in the driveway.”

Bill’s truck was always in the driveway. He only ever used one thing to get where he wanted to go. Stan and Richie remembered this fact simultaneously.

“Oh, shit,” Riche groaned. “I’ll bet he’s halfway across the state by now.”

“No,” Stan shook his head. “He’d want to go somewhere. You said he saw Georgie, yes? What places do you think of when you think about Georgie?”

Simultaneously, Richie and Stan remembered something else. Remembered the last, rainy day George Denbrough had lived to see and the last place he had visited before his death.

They ran back to the car.

The overwhelming smell of rotting trash and stagnant water coming from the sewer drain made Bill want to gag. He turned his head to the side and took a quick whiff of fresh air before turning back to towards the opening.

“Wah-wah-wah-aht d-d-do y-you wuh-uh-want?” Bill shouted. “T-tell me!”

The drain did not grace his hurt and anger with an answer. Somewhere down the street, someone turned on a porch light.

Bill strained to see inside the sewer. He was so focused on making sense of the darkness he found there that he almost didn’t notice the light tug on his sweatshirt. His heart stopped dead in its track and he scrambled upwards to face his death, sure Pennywise himself had crawled from his hiding place to wipe the last of the Denbrough children off the face of the Earth. Instead of finding a killer clown, there stood the thing that looked like Georgie.

Georgie’s face was on fire with panic and fear. Blood streamed from beneath his right jacket-sleeve and down his hand, making soft splattering sounds on the asphalt. Bill’s heart ached, seeing Georgie’s face the way he was sure it must have been before It had killed him. He fell onto his knees and pulled the Georgie thing to him. Georgie felt as real as he looked- solid and firm. He even smelled a little like Georgie had too, like outdoors and the candles their mother liked to light on rainy days. Bill broke then, and sobbed painfully into Georgie’s small, cold chest. Georgie let himself be cried on and did not protest as Bill tightened his grip. He did nothing at all except look down at Bill’s head mournfully and continue drip drip dripping blood.

And this was how Stan and Richie happened upon the final third of their threesome, clutching onto nothing and sobbing endless, heart wrenching sobs.

And so began the haunting of Bill Denbrough.

#pls read on ao3 tumblr didnt add in the italics and shit #stenbrozier #richie tozier #stanley uris #bill denbrough #georgie denbrough #stozier #stenbrough #bichie #mine

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blondekasp · 4 years

Text

Of Seafoam and Amber Eyes

this is my gift for @honkhonkrichard for the @itfandomprompts secret santa 2019 event! i hope i was able to deliver something that you enjoy reading! happy holidays! ♡

hanbrough, side stanpat / 2.6k words / fluff / no warnings apply

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*:･ﾟ✧༄

"Okay, Bill, we're gonna head back to the house. The others will be wondering where we are, and we need to make sure that Richie hasn't corrupted the baby. Are you coming?" Stan stands up from the dock, dusting off his slacks absentmindedly and helping Patty up off of the wooden boards. The sun's halfway set already and the temperature's dropping slightly as the stars begin to come out of hiding.

"No, I think I'm going to s-stay out a little longer. Don't worry, you guys cuh-can go back, I won't be out too la-late." Bill reassures them, and Stan nods, taking Patty's hand and leading her away, off the dock to take the short walk back to the house.

Bill decides to take the alone time to think, because as much as he loves his friends, they get each other excited, not leaving much room for real thinking time. It's the first time in a really long time that he's been at Richie's beach house as a single man. In previous years, he's always brought Audra with him to Richie's beach house. She's a lovely lady, but Bill just wasn't sure he felt completely like they were right for one another, so it ended. It's not that he misses being in a relationship with her, it's just really strange to break the routine and not be with her for a tradition.

It's been nearly half a year since they broke up, and he's been dating again as of recent. It's nothing too serious, and he's enjoying meeting new people, but nothing's really stuck yet. That's okay, though, he's not expecting anything to happen soon. Maybe he doesn't feel great about being the only one single at the summer house, but he'll get used to it.

He's secretly a tiny bit envious of Stan and Patty, they love each other so much. They've just had a baby, and Bill thinks that the last time he saw them this happy was on their wedding day. He remembers it fondly, all seven of the losers and Patty had cried that day, gotten drunk and cried some more. It was a great day, much like the day their son, Elio, was born. He hopes someday he can be as happy as them.

Bill dips his feet in the water and winces quietly at the temperature, but he doesn't pull away. The water's refreshing, even if it's quite cold, and for a minute he considers slipping into the water, but he's already dried off from being in earlier. His pale skin is illuminated by the glow of the ivory marble in the sky. There's something about the sight that makes him feel a certain way, like reality's altered. It feels like he's the only person in the world —like it's just him and the moon.

He's brought out of his thoughts when something brushes against his ankle, ever so slightly, but enough for him to notice it. He plants his hands on either side of him on the pier to secure himself, and he looks over, down into the water, to find nothing. He squints, sure that he had felt something, but chalks it up to it being that he must've grazed his foot against the support beam under the dock or that it's a fish swimming where he can't see it.

Well, that's what Bill assumes for the next few minutes as he sits in a perfect silence, kicking his feet gently in and out of the frigid water. But then he feels something grabbing onto his ankle and he jumps, yanking his legs out of the water. He shuffles back on the dock and peers over to see the source of his fright. His eyes widen at the sight of two deep brown eyes staring back at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Bill doesn't say anything, and the person continues, "Are you okay?"

"I, uh, yeah, I'm fuh-fine." Bill stammers, "Sorry, who are you?" He asks wearily, and the man in the water moves a little closer, smiling in what Bill assumes is an attempt to make sure Bill knows that he isn't intending to cause harm.

"I'm Mike, what's your name?" Mike's voice is gentle, and he has kind features, big mahogany toned eyes and an endearingly lopsided smile. Bill relaxes, sits back down, cross-legged on the dock. Mike takes this as a sign that Bill doesn't feel threatened by him, and a look of relief passes over his face.

"I'm Bill. Are you here with anyone?" Bill looks around, there's no one in close proximity, and Mike laughs softly, shaking his head.

"Oh, no, I'm by myself." Mike tells him, and Bill nods silently, "Is this your first time here?"

He shakes his head, "My friend has a house up here and we always come for the Summer. Is this your first time?"

A look comes over Mike's face, and he smiles slightly, "No, I'm here all the time, I live here. I don't really have the opportunity to go anywhere else." Bill looks like he's about to ask, and Mike beats him to it, glancing around to make sure no one's within earshot or sight of them. He dives down deeper into the water, head first, and that's when Bill sees it —a tail.

Mike breaks through the water again, staring up at Bill, who's standing up on the dock, and backing off of it, coming around the side and down onto the sand. He wades into the water, disregarding the temperature and approaching Mike, who looks surprised. "I assumed you would run away."

Bill shakes his head, trying to find the right words, "No, I, uh, I-I'm just shuh-shocked, I th-think." Mike nods, doesn't say anything, just gives Bill a minute to think. "Ah-Are there others?"

"Yeah, there is, they stay down there, though." He gestures out to the large expanse of water stretching across the horizon. "They don't like it up here, they're scared of humans. It's only because they've never came up here, though. All they've heard is stories, but I don't think there's anything to be scared of." Mike momentarily gives Bill a weary look, "Is there?"

"N-No, of course not. I'm not guh-gonna hurt you. This is just really uh-unexpected. Do you usually show people that you're here, or...?"

Mike swims closer, simpering soft-heartedly, "I don't, I usually don't come this close to people at all, I just look from a distance. But you looked like you needed a distraction from whatever was making you upset." Bill averts his eyes, letting out a low murmur of 'oh', and Mike reaches out, his fingers ghosting over Bill's arm, giving rise to goosebumps on his skin. "Speaking of, what was making you so sad? I know you said you're fine, but it doesn't look like you are."

The sea's shallow enough where they are that Bill can sit down on the sand beneath it, and he buries his hands into the sand, they sink in easily due to the water, and he closes his fists around small heaps of the sand. "I can't buh-believe I'm telling this to a st-stranger, but I don't really f-fuh-feel like talking to anyone else about this so here goes, I guess. My girlfriend —well ex-girlfriend —and I broke up earlier this year ah-and we've come here t-t-tuh-together every year since we got together. I guess it just feels different n-now that she isn't here, I don't kn-know." Mike frowns, and Bill feels compelled to ask, "Do yuh-you guys date? Or ha-have partners or whatever?"

The merman laughs, all breathy and light, and Bill grimaces, shaking his head at himself. "Guh-God, sorry, that was such a stupid question. Of course you guys date." He face begins to bloom red, the shade much like that of the eventide that Bill witnessed earlier that evening with Patty and Stan.

"It's okay, I understand that this is really weird. I'd probably ask that too if it were the other way around." Mike reassures him, lying back in the water, lustrous azure tail flicking up and breaking through the liquid surface gracefully as he did so. He turns his head to Bill, who's still sitting near him, watching and waiting for him to talk again. "I'm sorry about your break up, though. If you don't mind that I'm asking, why did you break up?"

Bill shrugs half-heartedly, removing one hand from the sand and trailing his fingers along the surface of the water, "We were good together, buh-but it wasn't really in the w-way that we thought. We started dating a few years ago while we were still in c-c-college and it was rea-really fun but as time went on I k-kind of realised that we worked better as friends? It just d-didn't really feel romantic, something was m-mih-missing. We ended it because Audra said she felt the same way."

"What do you think was missing?"

Bill furrows his eyebrows, smiles a little, "I'm not sure, I guess I'll know whenever I find it." There's a moment of silence, and then Bill speaks again, "So, what's d-d-dating like for you?"

"Well, I suppose I don't really date. It's not like I haven't had opportunities or anything, I guess I just don't want to live like the rest of them down there. It's so boring. And I don't feel like I really have a mutual understanding with the others in my area, I think differently and they don't really approve." Mike sighs, "That's why I spend so much of my time up here. My parents are great, I love them so much, but I don't think they really get why I want change."

"I don't think m-my parents really uh-understood me either."

"Yeah?"

Bill hums, "My little brother went m-missing for a year when I was thirteen. I must've spent the entire t-time trying to figure out where he could've gone, how we could find hi-him and bring him home. My parents weren't having any of it. They kept insisting that I le-leave it alone, accept that Georgie was guh-gone. I couldn't uh-understand why they wanted to stop looking, it made me angry, and really confused. They were quite cold ah-after Georgie disappeared."

"What happened? To Georgie?"

"He was found a year later," Bill's lips curve upwards at the thought of his brother, "I don't think he remembers whatever happened in the time that he was away, he's absolutely fine now. He's nineteen, and going to school in New York.

Mike adjusts in the water, lying on his front, his forearms on the sand supporting him. "That's great, I'm glad. It seems like you love him a lot."

The writer nods, "I know a lot of siblings don't get along, but Georgie and I always huh-have. It was really rough when he went m-missing, sometimes I think I took it harder than my parents did. I'm so grateful that he's alive right now, all of the time I spent wondering wh-where he was and what had happened t-to him was pretty torturous and now that I kn-know that he's safe at college, I feel like I can relax."

Mike glides into close proximity, taking Bill's hand into his and patting it gently with the other. He doesn't say anything, just flashes Bill a lopsided beam, pearly white teeth on show and Bill thinks that he can actually feel his heart rate gradually slowing, he can pinpoint the exact moment when the tension floods out of him and he relaxes. The author doesn't say anything either, just simpers back in return, feeling a sudden relief at knowing that he's finally told someone what’s been on his mind.

He lets Mike come closer.

*:･ﾟ✧༄

"He sounds absolutely crazy."

"Oh, yeah, one-hundred p-percent, Richie's definitely a dumbass." Bill chuckles, "He pushed our friend, Eddie, out of a tree in m-middle school, Eddie was totally fine afterwards and Rih-Richie started crying because he felt so bad." Mike throws his head back, laughs from his chest, and the way it sounds makes Bill's stomach swoop momentarily, causing him to squint and then quickly recompose himself before Mike notices. "We all love h-him though, he's a good guy regardless of all the stupid sh-shit he does."

Mike's lying beside him, resting his head on his forearms, he turns his head to look at Bill, resting his cheek on his arm. "Your friends are amazing, and it sounds like you're all so close with each other. I wish I had friends like that."

"W-Well," Bill slowly extends his arm out to curl his hand around Mike's, "We're friends now, right?"

The merman shifts his eyes, seemingly bashful, and nods, looking back up at him and flashing that winning smile once more. "Yeah, I guess we are. Thank you, I don't really have a lot of friends or others around me who take the time to get to know me. You're the first in a long time."

Bill opens his mouth to respond, but he's silenced by a voice calling in the near distance. "Bill? Bill! Are you here?”

"Eddie?" He murmurs, perplexed, and turns back around to Mike. Eddie's voice is drawing closer and Mike looks panicked. He swiftly moves from his lying position and shuffles closer to Bill, resting a rough hand on his flushed cheek.

"This was really fun, Bill, thank you." His eyes flick down momentarily, and he surges in quickly but gently, pressing a kiss to his mouth and pulling away just as fast, leaving Bill to wonder if he had simply imagined it. He can't find the right words, just stares wide-eyed at Mike, who has the ghost of a smile on his mouth.

Eddie's voice beckons to Bill and he swivels around to see him jogging over. He turns back, to say goodbye to Mike, only to find that he's gone. "Bill! What are you doing out here?"

"Uh, I guess I juh-just lost track of time. Speaking of, wh-what time actually is it?" Bill asks, looking back out to the sea, in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mike. There's nothing but the sea foam and the water crashing against the rocks.

"It's four o'clock! I woke up to get some water and I walked by your room and saw that you hadn't came back. Jeez, Bill, warn us if you plan on staying out this late." Eddie shakes his inhaler, holds it between his lips and presses the trigger.

"I'm sorry, Eddie, I didn't h-have my phone with me and I didn't mean to stay out this late. Are yuh-you okay?"

"I'm fine, Bill, are you? I've noticed that you've been kind of down since we got here, if it's because of everything with Audra, we're all here for you, you know?" Eddie sits down on the sand next to Bill, and does his best to avoid the tide coming in.

Bill smiles to himself, nodding, "I know, Eddie, thank you." The water crests against a group of rocks, and he wonders if Mike is still watching from a distance, “I think I’m going to be okay.” He whispers, sounds so sure of himself that even he’s taken aback.

“I’m glad, Bill. What’s changed?” Eddie’s voice comes from behind him, and the blue-eyed man sinks his hand into the sand again, thinks about tomorrow, thinks about the look in Mike’s eyes just a moment before he kissed him. He hopes he’ll see Mike tomorrow, he wants to come back and talk to him again, maybe kiss him again.

“I guess I’ve just had a lot of t-time to think things over while I’ve b-buh-been out here. The view really put th-things into perspective for muh-me. I think I’ll cuh-come back tomorrow, it’s nice h-here.”

#it 2019 #hanbrough #stanpat #mermaid au #stephen king #it fandom secret santa 2019 #mine #writing #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #stan uris #patty uris #eddie kaspbrak

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redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

Just the Two of Us

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m finally on summer vacation which means I’ll be able to read and write more which is totally fun! This is my first major fic about Damian, and I’m totally excited to share it with you all. Enjoy!

Summary: Damian is nervous and frightened that he’s losing his older adopted sister Y/N and is determined to spend as much time with her, even when Jason and his brothers crash their slumber party.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual activities, and too much fluff.

This is a totally random night. What should have been a night all to myself while my boyfriend participates in ‘guys night’, I find myself sitting on a thick pink comforter while we’re hidden underneath sheets in a perfectly created fort.

Because Damian insisted we needed a fort for our “slumber party.”

“There...finally we have privacy for our slumber party. I do not want Grayson, Todd, and Drake interrupting our night. Now, what else do we do on these...nights, sister?” Damian asks. The curiosity and interest in his eyes never fade.

Yes, the thirteen-year-old Damian had overheard me talking to Barbara about how slumber parties were a way to reconnect with friends, share secrets, and just be there for each other. As an adult, I still found slumber parties to be fun, but haven’t had one since I was a teenager but had missed it so much. After my confession, I found out Damian had Alfred put together a slumber party for him and I.

The fort is spectacular; knowing how Alfred and Damian practically used the highest furniture to make it big and sturdy just shows no man in this family does anything half ass.

I unzip my sweater to reveal my tank top and pajama shorts, as Damian sits down after changing into a thin t-shirt and sweatpants. After he settles down, he sits cross legged like me and he smiles.

Just seeing Damian smile warms my heart, after everything that has happened.

I was thrown into the Batfamily at just fifteen-years-old. My parents abandoned me. I was living out on the street and did dirty work for Two-Face just to survive. But on a night that Two-Face was done with me was the night Batman and Robin saved me.

I was not only adopted by Bruce Wayne, but I became the newest superhero, NightBat. Five years of working alongside Bruce, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake, they gave my life meaning and became the light in my former dark life.

But being NightBat was something I couldn’t keep doing since I fell in love.

Yes.

Yes, I fell in love with Jason Todd.

After Jason’s death and resurrection, Jason was on the edge of becoming as dangerous as the Joker. It took the Batfamily and I a very long time to save Jason, but in the process, Jason and I kissed; a kiss that revealed how long we loved each other and how much we meant to each other.

After our confessions, Jason asked me to be his girlfriend and we’ve began dating. We’ve been together for three years now.

But with dating came some cold hard truths. Jason had been a nervous wreck and constantly worried about me fighting alongside them. And after he voiced his concerns, I realized crime fighting wouldn’t exactly help my future goals.

What if I wanted to get pregnant one day?

Although Jason and I never spoke about kids, I always wondered if he wanted them secretly or if he has even thought about having them with me.

But it was settled anyways. I worked behind the computers while Damian’s entrance into the Batfamily made him Robin. But just knowing Damian was enough for me to realize how kind and caring he was underneath the anger and hatred he was bred into believing.

And after a while, Damian and I became close; we’re almost like best friends (Barbara is right behind him).

Although Damian was initially against my relationship with Jason, it took everyone by surprise especially with how overprotective and serious Damian was about my wellbeing. But after serious and heart to heart talks with Bruce and Alfred, I realized Damian really saw me as a sister and wanted to protect me and make sure I’m taken care of because of his newfound brotherly duties.

Which could explain Damian wanting a spontaneous slumber party tonight. Even though Damian’s random thoughts and ideas for us to hang out is not unusual.

What’s unusual is how he’s been clingy these past few days. I haven’t exactly confronted him or tell anyone about my suspicions.

“We can make s’mores outside?” I suggest. The thought of a roasted marshmallow on a piece of milk chocolate and in between two graham crackers makes me lick my lips. “That sounds like fun.”

“Excellent. I’ll go fetch Pennyworth and have him provide us with the supplies,” Damian announces.

We begin to crawl out of our fort until someone jumps down, pokes their head in, and growls at us. Damian and I scream and fall and crawl back into the corner of the fort. Laughter. Men laughing takes us by surprise.

Jason Todd.

Dick Grayson.

Tim Drake.

Damian climbs off me and growls himself as we crawl out of the fort. And there were the three brothers, with Jason on the floor holding his stomach while laughing his ass off, as Dick and Tim were standing and laughing hard while covering their mouths and shaking a lot. As Damian and I stand up, Damian kicks Jason in the stomach.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snaps.

“How dare you frighten us, Todd! I should kill you where I stand!” Damian yells.

“I’d like to see you try, fucker!”

Before Jason reaches to grab Damian’s foot, I kneel beside my boyfriend. “Jay, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at guys night?” I ask curiously.

“The little shit head never showed up at the movies. He fucking ditched us!” Jason answers, and he’s trying hard to not lose his cool with me. “And why are you here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be back at home enjoying your ‘masturbating alone’ time?”

“Damian invited me to stay the night so we’re hanging out,” I say.

“Okay…but since Damian never showed up, we came back here to drag his little ass out,” Jason says, glaring at Damian.

“That’s why we came back here,” Tim replies.

“So Little D, you ready to go now? We always hang out every Friday night,” Dick says, offering a hand to help Jason up. Once Jason’s on his feet, Damian scoffs and shakes his head.

“As you idiotic pests can see, I already have plans with Y/LN. You imbeciles can go ahead and leave us alone,” Damian says, not even hiding the fact that he’s pissed off at them.

Damian grabs my arm and tries to lead me into the backyard, but Jason grabs my other arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, demon spawn?! Y/N’s my girlfriend! Don’t you know guys who flirt or try to steal other guys’ girls end up getting their asses handed to them and buried six feet under! Now get your fucking little hands off her!” Jason snaps viciously.

“Jason stop! What is your problem?!” I demand. I pull my arm away from him, shocking not only him but Dick and Tim as well.

“Don’t you see what he’s doing, babe? He’s trying to take you outside and do whatever that little pervert has planned!” Jason claims desperately.

“T-t,” Damian scoffs, and shakes his head at Jason. “You are a very, ignorant, arrogant, fool Todd. Y/LN and I are brother and sister. Father adopted her, which makes her my sister. As her brother, I have the right to spend time with her; one on one time since bonding is appropriate and needed for people to grow, learn, and be content. Whatever sick delusions you have are merely your own issues, not mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going outside to make s’mores.”

Dick’s eyes widen and he perks up. “S’mores? I want s’mores!” Dick cries out excitedly.

“Well, too bad Grayson. It’s only for Y/LN and me,” Damian snaps.

Damian manages to get us outside but Jason and the other two just wouldn’t leave us alone. I realize something’s bothering Damian, and I need to get to the bottom of it before he explodes, and we’ll just keep on fighting.

“Damian, something’s bothering you. Please tell me what it is,” I plead. The younger brother continues gripping my arm and I can hear him breathing hard. “If you say we’re as close as you say we are, then you should be able to tell me. I can help you. I want to help you.”

“It’s nothing,” Damian mumbles under his breath. He refuses to look at me or our brothers. “Just forget it. It’s pathetic.”

“Your problems are never pathetic. It’s okay to have problems and to solve them,” I disagree, and I finally am able to pull away from Damian’s grasp. “I don’t think I can continue our slumber party unless you tell me what is wrong. So, tell me what is wrong, Dami.”

Damian finally turns around, and his eyes are teary. Despite his rough and tough exterior, inside is a boy who has never had an innocent and fun childhood. He’s on the verge of breaking down, and just seeing him this upset breaks my heart.

“You’re…never around anymore Y/N,” Damian says to me, as he allows himself to cry and tell me and our brothers what’s been bothering him. “Ever since you and Todd have become…what Grayson says, “exclusive”, you have barely been home. You always spend time with him, and whenever our family gets together, you’re always with him: kissing him, embracing him, holding his hand, and always just touching him while you forget I’m beside you, too. I-I don’t have any serious issues with your relationship with Todd, despite our ongoing brotherly feud, I truly believe he cares about you and loves you as much as you deserve and more. But it always feels like you don’t even speak to me or want to “hang out” with me anymore. When was the last time it was just you and I alone?”

I can’t control my own tears from falling. “Maybe a month ago?” I choke out.

“Two months ago,” Damian corrects me. “You moved out six months ago to move into his apartment, and you’ve only been back home for short visits.”

“Damian…I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know you felt that way. But you have to know that I still love you and care about you,” I say, hoping he would understand. Damian looks up at me, even our heights are close (because he’s becoming a rather tall boy). His green eyes glisten from his tears and the patio light. I reach out to touch his face, and he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. “I never meant to hurt you like that. I love you, and you’re my little brother and I should be around more because we’re not only family, but we’re friends too. From now on, I’ll be coming home more. Okay? Can you please forgive me and give me another chance?”

Damian’s eyes open, and he smiles at me. That smile is enough to warm my heart again. “I would be a fool to not give you another chance, Y/N. Can we please continue on with our slumber party?” he asks softly.

“Of course, Dami.”

I hug him tightly. As we hug each other, I notice Dick smiling proudly at us for solving our problems. Tim sighs, and looks at Dick and Jason. “Poker night?” Tim asks.

“I’m in. But this time, I’m shuffling the cards,” Dick says, as he and Tim head back inside to give Damian and I privacy for our slumber party. “Jason cheats, and I believe you count cards!”

“I don’t count cards! You don’t have evidence; you can’t prove anything!” Tim shouts.

As Damian and I pull away from each other, Jason clears his throat. He runs a nervous hand through his dark hair, and sighs.

“I…I’m sorry Damian. I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m obviously fucked up, so in my defense, I tend to get jealous and crazy because I love Y/N so much. And I know you love Y/N as well, so how about we set aside a schedule or something during the week?” Jason suggests.

“Maybe when you want to hang out with Dick, Tim, and Roy, on your ‘guys night’, maybe Damian and I can have our own “siblings’ night” or something. What do you say to that, Dami?” I ask, hoping he’d love the idea.

Damian smiles sincerely. “I would…appreciate and respect that idea. Thank you Y/N. Thank you Jason,” Damian says, before engulfing Jason in a rough hug. Jason chuckles, and hugs Damian back.

“Tell anyone about this Todd, and I’ll castrate you in your sleep,” Damian threatens.

“I was just going to tell you the same thing, Omen. And hey, you called me Jason,” Jason teases.

“Fuck you, Todd!”

“Fuck you, Wayne!”

I roll my eyes at both, as they quickly move away from each other after their hug. I finally make my way to Jason, and he immediately looks down at me with so much love and admiration. His blue eyes steal my attention.

“I really like what you did back there, Jason. You’re so sweet and caring. You even apologized and helped Damian out,” I say. “I really admire that.”

“Well, he is my…little brother,” Jason says quietly. “Not like I had a choice, right?”

I smirk at him. I stand on my toes to reach up and kiss him. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

“I love you too, doll. I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Jason whispers back, and kisses me again.

Damian scoffs to get our attention. We stop kissing and look at him. “Now that we solved my problem, I believe it is time for you to leave, Todd,” Damian says seriously.

Jason sighs, and kisses me again. “Maybe all of us can do something tomorrow? Just you, me, Damian, Dick, and Tim?” Jason asks.

“I would like that a lot,” I agree.

“And I agree as well,” Damian agrees with me.

“Well, then I guess I’ll see you in the morning, doll,” Jason says softly. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight Jay,” I say.

Jason grins, and kisses me once more despite Damian making gagging noises. As soon as we pull away, Alfred comes outside with a tray of marshmallows, pieces of chocolate bars, and graham crackers. Jason sneaks a handful of chocolate and some marshmallows and waves us off.

“Night Omen!”

“Night Hellboy!”

“My word! Master Damian, I bring you the items you requested. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Alfred sighs.

I take a seat on one of the patio chairs, as Damian starts a fire into the firepit Bruce and the boys made a while ago. As the fire glows and rises, he smiles at me and I smile back at him.

Because Damian and I finally fixed our problem, and as siblings, we only have adventures and memories to share and create now.

“No, thank you Pennyworth. My sister and I are set tonight. We’re okay now.”

#dc comics #batfamily #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n

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arturcii · 4 years

Photo

Or: A Bastard’s History

tw: mentions of drug use, alcohol, gambling

21 April 1992.

No one cheers for the cries of an orphan’s bastard child. Ana Joséfa should’ve known better, and she’s always known, which is why, she thinks, as soon as the bastard is out, perhaps they’ll welcome her back again. Salvador had always been kind to her. He had never raised a tone or a fist, and he had never touched her when she didn’t want to; no, his disappointment hurt worse. The divorce hurt worse. Ana figured it was just punishment. She had tried to get the thing out of her – this shame, growing every day and heavier by the minute – and she died trying.

10 May 1992.

No one wants to hold that orphan’s bastard child. He’s born without a name but with a religion and a piece of paper that says: this is your mistake. It’s a quiet day for the Windsors. In this house, love is legitimacy and a staff to keep you you away from family.

6 June 1998.

Dr. Gileo smacks the back of his hand with a ruler.

“Again.”

“From the Plantaganets?”

“What else, you silly boy?”

“Mmn...” Something about it hurts. Small, stinging hands clutch onto the edge of his sleeves, nearly disappearing underneath. “Henry III, Edward I, Edward II, E-...Ed...ward... – n-no, Richard...?” Gileo raises the ruler and brings it down with the fury of disappointment.

“Once more, silly prince. No one wants a silly prince in here, do they?”

Arthur doesn’t cry because he’s right. No one wants a silly bastard child.

14 July 2000.

Arthur doesn’t want to go to school again. They stare too hard and point and say that he’s the prince, and now he’ll be sent to Scotland where the accents are funny and people speak in harsher tones. It’s all God etched in every stone there. It’s the summer of the new decade and he’s just had lunch with the Scottish princesses and he thinks of how it must be so cold for their eyes to be that shade of blue. In another life, his would be like that, too.

They curtsy to each other, just like they’re taught, and all Arthur wants is to reach across this distance without the imposing Kings and Queens standing over their shoulders to hold them still. Arthur holds his face still and trains it to smile. It’s defiance when he mouths, “hi”, and even more when he pretends to forget the name of his father. “I’m Art.”

No one wants a silly mistake from a bastard child. He spends the rest of the summer under the tutelage of Gileo again, this time turning the pads of his fingers red from the every day practice of a violin.

30 August 2001.

It’s the first recital of the term and Art messes up a note on stage. He’s the only one to laugh at and he freezes. How many has he missed now with all the beats thundering in his ears? It’s so loud, it’s so loud, it’s so loud! And they’re all staring! There’s a giggle from behind the heavy curtain. Who was that?

Someone gets up to leave. Who is that?

No one wants an embarrassing mistake from a bastard child. Especially not the King.

3 September 2003.

When he comes home, Natalia is accompanied by a strong woman when Arthur greets them, standing beside his father but never looking up at him. Natalia has eyes like the Scottish and a name like the French. Natalia is beautiful and small and Arthur wonders if that is why she’s wanted so badly by everyone in this place.

28 October 2005.

There is a long history of kings and leaders and power in these hallways, which is why Arthur knows the importance of watching his own back and knowing his own blind spot. His mother is a nobody, and not even a nobody wanted a bastard child. He stops the man there, and at thirteen, he swallows a thick helping of his own pride and takes the thin file and places it under his desk drawer. He doesn’t want to look at it yet. He just wants to know it’s there, like a secret kept against what he would become.

1 November 2006.

“C-a-n-d-y,” he enunciates, sticking his hand out to the staff member. They’re supposed to go around dressed like fantasies and beg around an old castle, but Arthur doesn’t beg. Beside him is a boy with lighter hair and a bigger smile, and they laugh when Arthur goes, “I’ll kick you if you don’t give all of it to me.”

They receive an armful and retreat to their rooms and stuff their faces with sugar until one of them throws up. They laugh, and do it again.

It’s only 7 in the evening, and for once, someone wants a bastard child dressed up like a pirate, making threats with a sword glinting in the moonlight. For you, he thinks, I’ll steal all the candy in the world.

25 December 2007.

It never seems to end, but Arthur grins and bears it and pretends that Christmas isn’t already a clusterfuck. He hides the pack of cigarettes in his inner pocket and sits at the table in silent acceptance of what he’s come home to.

His knuckles hurt from grabbing that boy in school – a remnant of a family that turned him into nothing, too – and from punching a wall and yelling at cameras who aren’t there. He’s learned to turn off the TV and sneak drinks from the Pop – those elite – and when he punches one in the face they laugh and give him another in return and say: “brutal, aren’t you, mate?” Everyone believes everything, and everyone else’s legitimacy stories are glowing and wonderful. Arthur swallows all of it like smoke and bourbon and shows up to the dinner table at Christmas, piercing it was a slam of his fist on the table and a laugh and saying, “Why’s everyone so quiet?”

No one wants a bastard boy with no mother. Everyone else seems to have gotten one for Christmas.

14 February 2008.

Valentine’s Days and romances were always so cheesy. The girl beside him is soft and sweet and has hair darker than snow when they kiss against the pole at the corner of Saville Row. It’s midnight, and Arthur has come out to see her, and isn’t that just sweet, being a rebel in the middle of winter? He brings her to a hotel that night with a promise that they don’t have to kiss under candlelight, and tomorrow, it’ll just be more fuel for the fight.

19 March 2010.

A break-up and a melt-down and a graduation later, Art finds himself one month away from 18 in the dregs of Monaco, smoking tobacco and rolling chips with old men who smell like cheap bourbon. Friends will join him later. Friends will worry if they see.

“Full. House. Pay the fuck up, bastards.” He sweeps them off their feet, and retreats until the door is locked and the floor is the only bed he knows.

21 April 2011.

He’s tired and it’s only two in the morning. In Wales, there would a soft bed waiting and warm arms around him, and that he’s thinking of this more than anything makes him worry. There’s work to do and this year’s term to get through, but he’s already booking a one-way flight to see her. He already knows how it’ll be: her eyes will dart elsewhere and she’ll ask him why he’s there, why he hadn’t called, and that she could’ve been busy. He knows. But he knows he’ll talk his way into bed and wake up to her in the morning where she can’t run away, and he hates it when she runs away.

No one wants a bastard child at two in the morning, eyes straining the dark, with a mouth full of whiskey and not much else.

He’s got a birthday dinner to plan, and the guest list isn’t even done.

14 May 2014.

The man who’s yelling at him reminds him of Gileo. Preferential treatment, my ass, he bites back, earning him a hundred push ups. This is what running away looks like: right in the line of duty, into hands scraping against the asphalt of a runway when he’s told to do push-ups at five in the morning. University has come and gone and so has a love he thought was love. It isn’t, and he knows that. He knows what it looks like and he knows that it isn’t with him, and there’s....nothing. There is nothing, and he feels nothing towards the empty well of boredom in his veins.

Look! Even he doesn’t want a bastard with nothing in their bones.

So, he avoids thinking about Gileo. He only remembers the face the poor man made when the boy bought him out of house and home. Arthur doesn’t wanna burst out laughing in front of his commanding officer. He’s done enough push-ups to last a lifetime. He’s done enough pretending, done pushing against the void to last a lifetime.

30 June 2016.

Loyal, golden Art with his fingers in the pockets of England licks them clean in the form of white powder on the curves of women he never remembers in the morning.

Loyal, golden Art spends his days marching on the streets and apologising in front of cameras on a pedestal of his own royalty, and spends his nights in the vast underground of his club in London, looking at the blood being spilled on the floors and running bets for whoever can splatter the most crimson on his newly polished shoes. Those are the fighters he likes the most.

Loyal, golden Art, with eyes only to the future, knowing that England is doomed to fail in the hands of people who think they can come into his home and run it like it’s theirs. There’s nothing to take from them yet.

Loyal, golden Art, who let the girl with Scotland’s ice for eyes look elsewhere, and whisper in the ear of someone who would agree with her more often.

In England, in Europe, in politics, loyalty and being golden means nothing. Family means nothing, and the only good thing that an old fool has given him is a useless name that’s gotten him into more trouble than it’s worth. He carves it out in paper with black ink, and in deals and trysts with red. He knows their secrets because he’s seen them at their worst. He knows what their faces look like contorted with fear, in its proper, genuine way – not like the sickening smiles and handshakes and talk of useless policy on TV. Even as everyone turns their backs, the gears continue to turn, and Arthur swallows his anger in bourbon and coke, if only to wait for the final result.

No one wants a bastard for a king.

Not yet, anyway. It’s not like they have a choice.

21 April 2019.

There’s no fanfare for a bastard on this self-made island of money and kings. Dubai is cut-off for ‘security’, but the cracks are starting to show, and Arthur doesn’t make a big deal of it when he arrives. It’s business as usual. He’s spent his whole life cleaning up after England’s mistakes. They call him a snake, here; an angry, bitter vulture ready to pick the meat off the bones of the nation. But the English aren’t dead yet, and he ignores the poisoned well and dives head-first to look for gold in the only way he knows how: in the dark, in their fear, in their desperation.

Maybe he would’ve been better off as the villain, after all.

9 April 2020.

There are unforgivable things he cannot atone for. There are missed calls buried somewhere in guilt that seems so out of reach. There are news of weddings and war. There are tensions in the seas and black in the air.

When the phone rings at four in the morning to a name he’d answer to, he pretends it’s the trilling of a bell, the rise and fall of a death toll he cannot admit.

In the morning, in the sun, they watch him again. They like looking at him, seeing the way the curls of his hair free themselves from the patted-down scalp, the way his smile reaches his eyes and is warm like the sun to hide all this cold on the other side. Mercurial, he comes and goes on this Venus-landscape of politics, all hellfire and brimstone, spitting ash and heat on open wounds. The King tears a seam open and Arthur’s work unravels, and this is how he looks at his father for the first time in his life: the ugly, bitter truth of madness and idiocy under layers of revenance and loyalty. But the King doesn’t look back at his son. Perhaps he never has.

In the ticking of every hand further into the night, he descends – further and further where the sun cannot reach.

No one cheers for the death of an orphan’s bastard king.

#hshqtask012 #BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE #now i can perish in peace #shoutout to ciara for da graphic #love u

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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804.

1. When was the last time you swam in a pool? >> The last time I was in a pool was probably over 5 years ago, at Easton Mountain. I’m not fond of the way pool water smells. 2. Do you like to party? >> I like gatherings, and get-togethers, and barbecues, and casual social events at someone’s house with food and booze and games. I don’t really care for anything more hectic than that. 3. If your ex suddenly kissed you right now, what would you do? >> --- 4. Are you a virgin? >> No. 5. What are your parents views on your relationships? >> There could never be a relationship that my father would have approved of.

6. If you ran into your current boyfriend/crush in 10 years, would you marry them? >> --- 7. Is your best friend dating anyone? >> --- 8. Describe the shirt you’re wearing? >> It’s black and has the design from the Endless Night Vampire Ball of 2019 on it. 9. Do people who wear Hollister and Abrerbrombie every day bother you? >> Why would that bother me? 10. Could you go out in public without wearing make-up? >> Of course, I do it all the time. 11. What is one feature that you don’t like? >> --- 12. Would people describe you as happy? >> I don’t know how people would describe me. It’s not like I make a habit of asking, and most people don’t make a habit of volunteering that information out of the blue. 13. Are you single? >> No. 14. Does it bother you that pretty much every survey you take asks if you’re single? >> Eh, whatever. For some reason, romantic relationships are of the most pressing importance to a lot of people, and I’ve gotten used to it. 15. Do you have Tumblr? >> Heh. Wouldn’t you like to know.

16. What about Xanga? >> Damn.... RIP. 17. Have you ever babysat before? >> Nope. 18. Is there a teacher who you absolutely hate? >> Well, no, I’m not even in school. 19. Ever shopped at Sephora? >> Yeah, many times. 20. If your current boyfriend/crush suddenly moved away, what would you do? >> The thing about having a spouse whomst you live with is that this kind of thing is way less likely to happen. 21. Do you have any university plans? >> No. 22. If your best friend revealed she was a homosexual, what would you do? >> --- 23. What are your views on sex? >> I don’t have “views” on sex. That’s such a broad question, lmao... 24. Do sexual questions bother you? >> Nah. 25. Would you rather have sex with your boyfriend or break up? >> Wh.................. 26. Have you ever dreamed about your wedding? >> Nah, I was never much into the idea of having a wedding. And then I had one, so you know. Life is like that. 27. Does it bother you when people TYpe 1yk dis’? >> I haven’t seen anyone type like that in almost a decade. The world has moved on. 28. Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? >> --- 29. Would you ever date a friends Ex? >> This is one of those situations that I just can’t at all imagine myself navigating. 30. What’s the last book you read? >> The last book I finished was The King in Yellow. That’s going to be my answer for a while, because the book I’m (re-)reading right now is fucking long. 31. Ready for 10 simple questions? >> Nope. 32. What is your last name? >> Hmm. 33. What grade are you in? >> I’m not in a grade. 34. What school do you go to? >> --- 35. Summer, Fall, Winter or Spring? >> Spring. 36. Favorite Color? >> Gold. 37. Are your parents together? >> No. 38. Any siblings? >> Not worth mention. 39. Favorite subject? >> I don’t have a favourite subject.

40. Least favorite subject? >> Or a least favourite subject. 41. Favorite song? >> People who can choose one favourite song are cryptids. 42. Okay. Simple questions are over. Happy? >> Hopefully I can stop giving such simple answers, too. 43. How many friends do you have on Facebook? >> Thirteen. 44. Ever been requested by some old guy from another country? >> Nope. 45. Have you ever googled yourself? >> Yeah. It’d be a lot harder to google myself now, because I have a fictional character’s name. 46. Have a Formspring? >> Well, no, considering that site is defunct. 47. You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? >> Tell whoever it is to give the tickets to someone else? I’m completely uninterested in Justin Bieber. 48. Would you rather spend the day at an amusement park or a water park? >> Amusement park, if I must. 49. Been to Disney world? >> No. 50. If someone posts their status “9 Inches :(” do you know what they mean? >> No. 51. Ever had a boyfriend? >> Yes.

52. Ever had a huge crush on someone who still doesn’t know? >> I don’t know, maybe. 53. Have you done something in the last week that you regret? >> No. 54. Ever drank alcohol? >> Certainly. 55. Know anyone who’s currently doing drugs? >> Sure. 56. Ever watched The Hills? >> No. 57. What about Jersey Shore? >> No. 58. Ever called someone a slut? >> Not seriously. I’ve said it in a joking way to friends who appreciate that sort of banter. 59. What do you think of short shorts? >> I don’t want to wear them. 60. Does it bother you if people swear around you? >> Of course not. 61. Have you ever gotten an A in a subject? >> Yes. 62. What about a B? >> Argh..... yes to all. NEXT 63. And a C? 64. How about a D? 65. Ever skived? >> I don’t know what that is. 66. Would you consider yourself popular and outcast or somewhere in the middle? >> These dynamics don’t really apply to adult life... well, not in my experience. Maybe if I had a more structured social life? 67. Are most of your friends older or younger than you? >> --- 68. Ever been stabbed in the back by a close friend? >> Nah. 69. Do you think it’s immature when people laugh at the number 69? >> I don’t make any judgements about it. 70. Ever watched porn? >> Yep. 71. How many laws do you think you’ve broken in the past month? >> I don’t think I’ve broken any, considering I barely even go outside except to take walks. 72. Do you wake up with an alarm clock? >> No. 73. Do you prefer Wednesdays or Thursdays? >> All days of the week are pretty much interchangeable to me. 74. If your school had a Glee Club would you join? >> --- 75. Ever performed in a talent show? >> Probably. I don’t remember. 76. Have you ever cried in public? >> Yeah. I used to be homeless in a metropolis, privacy wasn’t something I had access to. Guess that might be part of why I’m so big on it now. 77. Do you have a favorite between your Mom and your Dad? >> --- 78. Would you audition for a reality talent competition? >> Fuck no. 79. How many celebrity crushes have you had? >> *shrug* 80. How many non-celebrity crushes have you had? >> *shrug* 81. Name 5 male celebrities who you think are attractive. >> Matthew McConaughey, Peter Mensah, Jeremy Irons, Denzel Washington, Oscar Isaac. 82. Name 5 female celebrities who you think are attractive. >> Sandra Oh, Aisha Hinds, Normani Kordei, Gillian Anderson, Helen Mirren. 83. Ever been compared to a celebrity? >> Yeah, a couple of times. 84. Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? >> I only have one photo of myself on facebook. 85. Do you think spending £20 on Lip Gloss is a waste of money? >> It’s not a waste of money for whoever buys it. That person just wouldn’t be me, I have no interest in lip gloss. 86. Are you opinionated? >> Not especially. 87. Do you have a favorite store? >> Nope. 88. Would you ever wear Flare Jeans? >> I did when I was younger, but I doubt I’d be into them now. 89. Do you own jeans that aren’t skinny? >> No. I can’t really fit into any jeans that aren’t stretchy (and the stretchy ones are usually skinny jeans). 90. Have you ever worn the same outfit twice in one week? >> Many times. 91. What’s the longest period of time you’ve been away from school? >> A couple of months, when I was in the psych ward. 92. Do you google abbreviations you don’t understand? >> Yeah. I google almost anything I don’t understand, unless I just have zero interest in understanding. 93. Does it bother you when people have cats as their profile picture? >> Why... would that bother me... 94. Own a pair of converse? >> Nope. I can’t wear any shoe without arch support. 95. Is there a teacher at your school who has obvious favorites? >> --- 96. If yes, are you one of them? >> --- 97. Do you text in class? >> --- 98. What brand of jeans do you wear the most? >> The only pairs of jeans I have are from Old Navy. 99. At what point do you think sizes are “Plus Sized?” >> I don’t know what sizes are plus-sized and I’m not interested in finding out right now. 100. Do you want to lose weight? >> Yes. 101. Ever seen a therapist? >> Yes. 102. Ever watched porn? >> This is a repeat question and I would delete it if the questions weren’t numbered. 103. Ever purposely ignored a text? >> Yeah. 104. A facebook message? >> Yeah. 105. A poke? >> God, when did they finally get rid of those? I haven’t heard about pokes in years. 106. A friend request? >> Yeah. 107. Would you say you read into things too much? >> I don’t know if I read into things too much or not. 108. Is your best friend more likely to be the one suggesting something stupid or refusing to do something stupid? >> --- 109. Do you have a “fun friend?” (A friend who you have tons of fun with but you never really have deep conversations?) >> No. 110. Ever been called a bully? >> No. 111. Ever purposely hurt yourself? >> Many times. 112. Ever gone to church? >> Many times. I think I’ve gotten the gist of it by now. 113. Would you call either of your parents screw ups? >> One of them was certainly a screw-up in caring for their child... 114. If you turned out exactly like your mom would you be pleased? >> Absolutely not, considering that’s the parent I was talking about in the previous question. 115. What do you want to do with your life? >> I don’t have any specific goals for my life. I’m pretty content just living it.

116. Let me guess… You have brown hair? >> Yeah. 117. Already know what you’re being for Halloween? >> I don’t know if I’m ever going to get to dress up for Halloween. We’ll see. 118. Do you still go Trick or Treating? >> I’ve never been and I am way too old for it now. 119. Ever liked someone WAY older than you? >> Like 80% of the celebrities I named in those two questions about attractive celebrities are way older than me. 120. Does it bother you when people have really loud conversations on the bus? >> Only when I don’t have my headphones with me, which is... just about never. I know I have sensory issues, so I come prepared. 121. When you have sunglasses on, do you stare at people? >> Fuck no. 122. Ever had a credit card denied? >> Yeah. 123. What’s the last movie you watched? >> The Lovebirds. 124. Last TV Show? >> Patriot Act. 125. You see your Ex making out with one of your friends. What do you do? >> I can’t imagine this being bothersome to me. Or even significant, honestly. 126. Ever been called a whore? >> No. 127. Are you american? >> Yeah. 128. Ever made yourself throw up? >> Yeah. 129. Have you ever kissed someone who wasn’t your boyfriend? >> Yeah. 130. Are you Cute or Gross? >> What...??? 131. Does it bother you when people say “LOOK HOW MUCH YOU’VE GROWN!”? >> It would bother me if that was a situation I’d ever find myself in. 132. Can you say intelligent things around the guy you like? >> --- 133. Ever had the lead in a play? >> Nope. 134. What about a solo in a concert? >> Nope. 135. What kind of a student are you? >> I’m not a student. 136. Worst subject? >> --- 137. Best subject? >> --- 138. Ever had a crush on a teacher? >> Something like that. 139. Would it bother you if you found out that your mother was pregnant? >> --- 140. How late do you sleep in? >> 9a seems to be my limit. 141. Do you edit your profile pictures before posting them? >> --- 142. Be 100% honest. Do you have any friends who are uglier than you? >> This is so fucking rude. 143. Do you believe in love? >> Yawn. 144. Would you consider yourself a good student? >> --- 145. Does it bother you when Surveys ask “Did you like this survey?” >> Not really, I usually just delete that question because, like... the survey-maker is definitely not going to see it, so what’s the point. 146. Salty, Sweet, Sour or Spicy? >> Salty + sweet, spicy + sweet, spicy + salty, or any of them alone except for sweet. 147. Are you going into High School this year? >> Fuck no lmao 148. What about Junior High? >> Double fuck no lmao 149. What is one thing someone could say to you right now that would make you cry? >> I don’t know, man. That’s usually contextual, anyway. 150. Where did you find this note? >> I got this survey from another survey-taker on tumblr. 151. Last question. How many unread messages are in your phone? >> Zero.

#surveys #survey #random survey #some surveys just don't need to be as long as they are #question quality is in the gutter

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rebellect-writes · 4 years

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] An imaginary number! [b]What happened?:[/b] GH, she’s evil...and I like his hair.

[b]Name:[/b] Hunter Burnett. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST]Uncle Jordon. Jordan Burnett. Hunter Jordan. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 286 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] June 4th, 1725. [b]Age at Death:[/b] 28. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Questionable. [b]Occupation:[/b] Jack of all trades.

[b]Bloodline:[/b] Beast Master. [b]Power Level:[/b] Adult [s]Kiss[/s]. [b]Mind-Set:[/b] Both. [b]Animal to Call:[/b] None. [b]Powers:[/b] [LIST] [*] Heightened senses, reflexes, healing and strength. [*] Bite...If he enters the persons mind when feeding, he can make it less painful and more enjoyable. He doesn’t most of the time. [*] Empathy, he can smell some strong emotions like fear, rage, anger, lust. Since he’s of Padma’s bloodline, he’s also got a slight empathy to all animals. [*]Enthralling/rolling, he can only get this right with weaker shifters and normal humans. Anything stronger can break free. [*] Glamour, he can switch small things about him. Make his hair darker, eyes brighter, on will. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. He can be tempted by the Kiss though.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Gerard Way. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i325.photobucket.com/albums/k361/Mychemicalromance55_photos/mychem313.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10 [i]Weight:[/i] 151lbs [i]Eyes:[/i] Hazel brown. [i]Hair:[/i] He’s a dyer. Naturally, it’s [URL=http://img.buzznet.com/assets/imgx/7/5/3/9/1/6/1/orig-7539161.jpg]black, he’s [/URL] gone [URL=http://quizilla.teennick.com/user_images/A/AM/AMU/AMUANDIKUTO4EVA/1264970042_5386_full.jpeg]blonde[/URL] in the past, but he’s currently sporting [URL=http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/19400000/Gerard-way-my-chemical-romance-19400197-467-700.jpg]red.[/URL] [i]Build:[/i] Average and lean. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a Crucifix burn mark on his left shoulder. [i]Style:[/i] Hunter likes to be comfortable. Since he travels a lot, he’s ditched the formal wear that he used to love and taken to jeans, t-shirts, a nice pair of boots. You name it, he’ll wear it. That doesn’t mean he won’t go back to formal(ish) wear.

[b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] Can speak pretty decent Spanish and French, well enough to get him by. [*] Not so much a fighter, more of a scrapper when it comes to combat. [*] Good with a knife or any type of blade, if being armed is what's needed. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Hunter isn’t as complicated as most people would think. He’s a fairly easy going guy that likes to have a laugh and being a vampire nearly 300 years old hasn’t changed that, and why should it? Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he has to be a mopey Annie, he enjoys his unlife. He doesn’t judge people right off the bat and he’s willing to give them a choice to show their true colours before passing judgement and moving on with his life. He just understands that not everyone choses to be who they’ve become, or what they’ve become. Caring and nurturing – it comes with raising a boisterous were-puppy -, he’s got the patience of a saint at times and it’s hard to push him into snapping but not impossible.

Other vampires, more to the point the older kind, scare him and because of that he respects them a hell of a lot. He’s fine with anyone younger but the older ones make the hair on the back of his neck crawl. He knows he’s got to play it careful with the elders of his kind, they could easily shred him a new one if they wanted and to top that off he’s trespassing on an occupied territory. In some places that would have ended with his heart and head removed. Shape shifters are awesome; he’d rather run with someone that was furry inclined then spend time around his own kind. Maybe it’s because of his bloodline, he’s never worked it out, but if Hunter comes across a shape shifter in need, he’ll lend a hand. Humans are the same, as long as they’re not trying to stick a bullet or stake into him, he’s dandy.

He’s extremely protective of Grey, and has bled for his “nephew”, to the point that he has killed for him. Hunter would walk over broken glass if he had to, to make sure that Grey was comfortable, and he’d go without clothes on his back to make sure that Grey had what he needs. Does he love him? Yes. He’s been there since day one, and while it may seem a little odd to some but that’s just the way it is and the hand that Hunter’s been dealt. They’re not related by blood after all so it’s nothing incestuous despite the fact that he regularly refers to Grey as his “nephew” outside of the few people that Hunter can call friend. There blames himself for the death of his “family”, and he believes that he failed his friend from all those years ago, and it gnaws at him at times when he’s not really paying attention to what’s going on around him. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Being alive...Well, undead and alive. You get the picture. [*] His [URL=http://www.musclecarclub.com/musclecars/pontiac-firebird/images/pontiac-firebird-1968c.jpg]car[/URL]...Well, technically it's Grey's car now. [*] Living under the radar. [*] Keeping Grey safe, even if Grey doesn't always know it. [*] Wandering the coast at night. [*] When it's not to hot or to cold. [*] Playing games on his phone when he's bored. [*] Watching people. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Following other people’s rules. [*] Wearing suits. Though he does it occasionally. [*] Being hunted like a dog. [*] Seeing Grey struggle with something. [*] Driving in the rain. [*] Seeing animals abused. (This includes shifters, as well.) [*] Pushing to get what he wants. [*] Being dragged into the spotlight, so to speak. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Strong willed. [*] High pain tolerance. [*] Won't hesitate to get things done. [*] Grey. [*] Somehow manages to keep Grey calm when he's all worked up. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Can't enter a person’s house without permission from the owner. Has killed because of this. [*] Normal vampire restrictions and weaknesses. Fire, sunlight, Holy items. [*] Grey! He failed his adopted family, he won't fail Grey. [*] Doesn't always feed right. A little taste here and there, just to hold him over. [*]Stubbornly persistent at times. It’s been known to get him into trouble. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]

When former British Naval officer turned pirate William Morgan found out that the tavern wench, Carmella, that he visited regularly was pregnant with his supposed spawn, he up rooted the poor woman and dragged her all the way from her home in Maracaibo to his home city of London, and in the early summer of 1725, Hunter was pushed screaming into the world and was welcomed with somewhat open arms. Carmella died from a fever and child birth complicates according to the back street midwife that William had paid to help deliver his son, and she wasn’t mourned. William wanted a son, not a wife or a real family, and he already had plenty of mistresses across many main trade routes waiting for him so one whore dead was no skin off his nose to see her buried in an unmarked grave just outside of the city.

For Hunter though, it meant something different. Since William didn’t haul the boy out to sea with him, he was left from the moment he could walk with William’s sister, Cassandra. She was nice enough, and made sure that her brother’s son was fed and looked after, but that was it. There wasn’t a maternal bone in the woman’s body, and Hunter grew to know this very well, especially when he got hurt and all she did was pour boiling hot salt water over his cuts and scrapes and scolded him for being irresponsible before always telling him the same story about how his father would be so disappointed and when he came back from his trip then she would tell him of all the bad things that Hunter had done. If anything that was what made him wish for his father’s return all the more, simply so he could meet the man even if he was to be scolded for being a typical boy. He was nine when William came back to London, and upon first meeting him, Hunter was scared. Worse yet, Cassandra lied through her back teeth to get Hunter out of her house and William had no choice but to agree after giving the boy a beating for causing his beloved sister so much trouble. Fear turned to twisted joy, and the following day he was dragged out of one life and into something...better. He’d always wanted to see new places, meet new people and have an adventure. He wasn’t disappointed either, so he waved good bye to England and followed his father like a loyal little puppy.

By the time Hunter twenty one years old, he returned to London under an assumed name of Jordan Hunter. William had died in a raid on a tavern in Panama nearly two years previous and it was that loss that had him seeking something else. It was his father that had taught him everything that he had known, and without him, well, Hunter saw no point in staying on as a pirate and that was a bit cowardly in itself and went against everything in him for the most part. Besides, piracy had been a dying art for years before his father had taken him away from Cassandra at the age of nine, but it was well and truly dead by the time he returned those thirteen years later with more knowledge of the world and with more than a few secrets and tricks up his sleeves. No doubt there was a noose waiting for him somewhere as well. A few weeks upon his return, he found out that Cassandra had moved to the country because of her health, and instead of tracking her down, Hunter decided to stay in the city and it took a year of roughing it out, but eventually he found his feet so to speak in a classy tavern come whore house in South London. He was to look after the working girls, make sure that they were treated somewhat correctly and if a John thought he could get away with something that the Lady of the house didn’t like, and then he was to deal with it and make sure that it wouldn’t happen again. Simple, really. Right? Right! It was something he could do with little to no trouble, because half the time the punters abided by the rules and Hunter became somewhat of a ghost, only appearing when trouble kicked off over the next few years.

Twenty six, almost twenty seven years old, and surprised that he’d lasted that long in anyone one job, Hunter made the mistake of stepping in to stop some high Lord from doing some serious damage to a girl named Mary, a new addition to the household. She was a sweet lass that was a little ditzy in Hunt’s opinion but she didn’t deserve the ever living Hell kicked out of her because someone had shot his ... pistol ... too early and in the wrong place. Mary was only eighteen at the time. Not liking it, the gentleman turned on Hunter in a rage but the Mistress of the house stepped in before it got too out of hand and warned the male away with the threat that he’d no longer be welcome in any brothel in the city if he didn’t leave. Luckily, the gentleman had some sense and left. That night, after a talk with the Mistress, Hunter became the unofficial career for some of the younger girls and that suited him fine. The ‘business’ was changing after all; he’d seen it rise up from a tavern where anyone could get what they wanted to something more refined. The year following, Hunter got close to Mary and as unwise as it was, he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. They just clicked. However, the good times weren’t something that just wasn’t meant to be. Lord Jennings came back on evening with his friends and they flashed a lot of money around. The Mistress, Emily as she was known, had no choice but to serve the ingrates, but she warned Hunter to be on the lookout for trouble as well as the more senior girls and staff. Mary was one of the unlucky girls that were called on to serve the gentlemen and while Hunter didn’t particularly like it, he had no choice but to let it happen. It wasn’t until later that night that Jennings changed from a rich snob to something else, something from the pits of Hell itself when the Mistress refused him personal service. For poor Hunter, it was like some of the stories he’d heard on his ‘travel’ made real.

The Mistress and Jennings tore into each other with fangs, two of Jennings friends turned into monstrous wolf like beasts that lunged for the closest living body that was near them, another turned into a snake-man. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of the girls turned to. Great cats attacked the wolf men, and those that didn’t transform tore into them with fangs. It seemed that Hunter was the only human amidst the nightmare, and after a moment’s hesitation he was spurred into action by something that he considered even worse. Mary had been cornered by a rabid creature, some kind of man-dog thing and Hunter didn’t hesitate in trying to defend her. One almighty smack across the back of his head sent him flying into the path of another monstrosity. Jennings. The vampire male had split from the Mistress and left her bleeding and broken on the floor and took after the disorientated Hunter, and the last thing that Hunter saw before the world went black was Jennings fangs.

He woke up three nights later, chained at the wrists and ankles in the houses cellar with no idea what had happened to him or the others. He’d never been to the lower levels of the house before, hadn’t wanted to, but the coffins lining the wall made him tremble. If it hadn’t been for the Mistress Emily who was in a similar position to him and trying to calm him down, Hunter would have found a way to raise unholy hell. The hunger he felt would have driven him to doing it anyway, but from what he was being told there was just something distracting about it. Jennings had turned him to spite the Mistress, who was in fact Jennings own wife and his former fledgling. Talk about having your mind blown open. Hunter had worked for Mistress Emily for nearly a decade and he’d never once thought of her as someone’s wife. He certainly hadn’t thought of her as a vampire either! The nightly sightings had been written off as being selective with her cliental but that was it, especially since she had more than enough people working for her to get whatever was needed during the day done. It was so crazy that it actually made sense to him. Hunter just didn't accept it fully until Jennings finally gave both of his 'toys' an audience and by then it was too late for him and Mistress Emily as they both listened to the Master vampire rage about how he hadn't wanted to take over Emily's life again, but the insults that he got because of her reputation had been too much for him as it had started to affect his business dealings in the city. It was time to bring his wife to heel! Back to her place at his side, even if he had to destroy everything that she had built during their ‘separation’ as he called it.

After Emily was beaten into submission verbally by her husband, Jennings turned on Hunter, simply because he’d stood up for one of Emily’s girls. As a lesson to his new fledgling, Jennings tore the throat out of one of the girls that Hunter had promised to look after in front of both of his ‘children’. The scent of blood drove Hunter wild, pushed him past being human to a place where only the blood mattered. Jennings let him loose and the only thing that Hunter cared about was the blood that was draining from the girl’s throat and he fell on her, feeding on what was left. Emily tried to bring him back to her, back to being human, back to being Hunter, and she almost succeeded by sheer force of will but at the end of the day, Jennings had his claws in Hunter and he also had Emily right where he wanted her and it was like that for nearly twenty years before anything changed. He didn’t go around as Jennings ‘servant’, he became Hunter again, all because he found out that Mary – who had because Emily’s maid more than a prostitute – had become pregnant with a child to one of Jennings shape shifter friends, a weredog, just like she was. What made Hunter more surprised than suspicious was that Mary claimed she was in love with the male, and there hadn’t been any force involved. He had no option but to agree when he saw what she was like around him. If only he knew how Jennings would react ahead of time, maybe he’d have been able to stop his sire for doing something stupid.

The birth was complicated. Mistress Emily had taken over the proceedings as midwife while Lord Archibald paced in the hallway waiting to see if he had a son or a daughter. Hunter did as he was told, fetched water and towels and was the perfect little man servant. It was on his second trip up from the kitchens that he found Master Jennings had returned early from a business trip – much to everyone’s surprise – and had found out what was happening. He flew into a rage unlike Hunter had ever seen before, and turned on the vulnerable Mary screaming and cursing that she was ruining the bed. Archibald and Emily lunged to keep him away from the woman and Hunter was the one that had to finish delivering the baby and even though he had no idea what he was doing and there was a battle raging behind him, between him and Mary, the young shapeshifter was brought into the world kicking and screaming. It should’ve been a happy moment, and it was, in a way, but one moment Hunter was on his feet and the next he was collapsing and clutching at his chest. He didn’t know that Emily had taken Jennings head clean off his shoulders, leaving Archibald to deal with the rest. A life for a life, the baby was alive and Hunter was dying for a second time. It was a good exchange in Hunters eyes. However it wasn't in Emily's. She blood oathed him to herself in a last ditch attempt to save his life and she almost lost him. Almost. To them, Jennings had never returned home that day and the never mentioned him again.

Excitement over, the vampires became unspoken godparents to the child that had been named Thomas, and they watched as he grew up and his parents passed on seventy years later. Hunter was barely past his first century of un-life and could have done anything or gone anywhere, but a bond of friendship kept him there. Even after Emily finally grew bored with watching out for her friend’s children and their children’s children and moved on, Hunter stuck around keeping tabs on the closest thing that he had to a family. He became an unspoken Uncle. Sure, he was sad to see Emily go but he just couldn’t do it, and wouldn’t do it for all the tea in China. The only problem was that since his Mistress had left to find something else to occupy her, Hunter had to be careful. It wasn’t right for a “rogue” vampire to wander into Kiss’ territories unannounced, and feeding in a territory that was controlled by a Master vampire was even more dangerous for him. So he crept around the territory lines, nibbled rather than fed, and vanished when there was any sign of trouble headed his way. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was his to do with as he wished.

He travelled a bit even though he kept in contact since some of the weredog’s that came and went didn’t seem to like him being close to them or their kin. He dropped out of contact for sixty years at one point because he’d been focused on getting a job and getting some money put away in case he ever needed it, and he did get a bit put away for a rainy day. When he finally came back into contact with the dogs and a lot had changed, Hunter was only glad that he could come back in time to see Grey born and could be in the kids life from the start rather than coming in later and getting growled at by someone. He wouldn’t admit it, but Hunter had been growing tired of everything, those sixty years before Grey’s birth had been tiresome and Hunter hadn’t been able to see the point in trying anymore, but things were oddly different now. So he became Uncle Hunter to Grey and for the first year and a half everything was grand, there wasn’t any trouble that they couldn’t get passed. He should’ve known that it would change though, one night hunters tracked down the family of weredogs and slaughtered them all. Hunter had been out feeding in the main town, rather than staying at the family home that night. He got there too late to save anyone, but he did find Grey stashed away in the cupboard under the stairs. After leaving an anonymous 999 call, Hunter left with Grey; the only thing on his mind was how it would look if the police turned up and found him standing amongst the bodies of his family. It would’ve looked liked he’d done it rather than a roving gang of murderers that pretended to be on a mission from God to destroy monsters

So, they travelled for a bit together. Scotland, Ireland, the States, you name it. It was a bit tricky for Hunter, having to explain why Grey wasn’t in school and what not, but he passed it off as him being in private education. People tended to leave them alone once they heard that, but Hunter – who was going as Jordon at the time – dealt with it and made sure Grey wasn’t affected much. Around about the time that Grey hit fifteen years of age, the kid went through his first shape shift. Hunter was glad of this, even though Grey pretty much freaked out over the fact it was a dog form rather than something fancy like a wolf or bear, but that pretty much sorted itself out when Hunter told him that he turned into a [i]big[/i] dog. Since Hunter had pretty much dragged Grey to the states to make sure no one found out that he was a weredog and could connect him to the family tragedy, it was time to come back home to the UK but not before Hunter paid a few of his old Mistress’s ‘friends’ to find out what had happened all those years before. What was turned up was just a little disturbing to say the least. A rogue sect of Human against Vampires had killed Hunters family all that time ago because of him, and it tore him up inside to learn this.

Four years later, the nightmare came back to finish what was started. Grey was nineteen and Hunter was, well, typical dorky Hunter over a movie night when their little rented house was raided. Hunter told Grey to run as he took one of the humans out before swiftly following. It was only later when they met up on the outside of town to watch their house go up in flames that Hunter realized just how important Grey was to him. It was little too late though, the hunters found them and Hunter threw himself at the lot of them so Grey could runaway and that he’d catch up with him later. What Hunter didn’t want Grey to see was him tearing into the crew of slayers with a rage he didn’t even know existed until he saw their leering grins. Throats game out between fangs, silver bullets hit home weakening him more and more until eventually he was left broken on the floor. Rather than kill him out right like anyone sane would do, they hauled his mangled body to a lock up, told him that he was going to be used as an example for monsters in the area.

Now a vampire can take a lot of damage, they beat him, starved him, and threatened to burn his face off with holy water, you name it, and Hunter dealt with it. He even got a pretty cross shaped scar for mouthing off to a chick that obviously wasn’t getting any at home. It wasn’t until two weeks into this Hell that things got interesting. They started bringing in animals for him to feed off, dogs, cats, rats, hell even some idiot brought him a goat. Rather than feed though, he manipulated the animals even though it cost him. A dog would bite here; a cat would take a swipe at someone’s face. It was worth it because one of the punks came close enough for Hunter to snag him by the throat and tore into it, draining the life from the slayer. All he wanted was the blood at first, but the keys to the pretty jeep and his chains were a bonus. Using the animals as a diversion, Hunter got out of the waterside warehouse and the hell out of dodge. Even though it took him a couple of more weeks to track Grey down, he wasn’t in any state to confront the young weredog. He did however stick close to Grey, more a silent uncle that was heard rather than seen. While he was healing up and Grey was getting on with life, Hunter found out that HAV had found Grey in London. Seeing red, he went straight to Grey’s flat and broke in, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush and told Grey everything that he knew before dragging him out of there and telling Grey’s neighbours that there were trouble makers on the way and that they should call the police because there would be guns! Well, as you can imagine it wasn’t the best reunion and Hunter would’ve done anything to make it better except he couldn’t. All he could do was point Grey in the direction of Jackford with a promise that he’d follow him after he gave the slayers some new tails to chase, and he did.[/SIZE]

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