#he WOULD have known if he called his sister the moment he could but NOO he said he ‘forgot’ when in reality he thought it was safer if she

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOOO truly any mention of the Itoshis from us will have that tone HAHA

LMAO Manifesting Mira seabird moment fr!!! Trust you just have to get a sandwich and wave it around on the beach it shouldn’t be hard for a bird to come steal it and then BAM you let fate handle the rest

HAHAHAHA FR like you can’t be TOO nice please because idk I think for me a lot of my close relationships involve a good amount of like friendly banter at least like if I did that with Isagi I’d just feel bad because I could be like “LMAO you’re so dumb” and he’d take it genuinely and be like “omg I’m so so sorry” like NO!!!!

No that’s also my logic HAHA like at least if I forget stupid things I can just stop by a market or something and grab another!

FR first time I saw it I was definitely like wtf this is absurdly funny HAHA but real like especially when they’re the same people deducing villains like Sukuna or geto to “just a silly guy” or “my babygirl” but anyways….

LMAOOOO yeah just some random thoughts yk maybe a teardrop mole….183 cm…..has a regional accent…..just random thoughts…

LMAOOO BRO I was racking my brain trying to come out with something interesting and not overused and inadvertently made some half crack ideas HAHAHAH I’m ngl I’m really sold on the Barou one now because I can just imagine him being like “why the fuck is there snow here I just cleaned it” and maybe his sisters who don’t know better are just like “oh yeah the nice lady next door was shoveling too” and he’s like oh so it’s THAT mf……I can fr just see him ringing the doorbell (not banging on the door because he’s still relatively respectful) and the door swings open and he’s like “why the fuck is YOUR snow on MY driveway” LMAOOOO the Karasu one just came to me in a vision while I was mid typing I think I was just pondering about like lowk bestie yuki and then it hit me….omfg stupid Karasu who ends up playing wingman too I CANT that would actually be such a rollercoaster all the mishaps and misunderstandings that would happen would fr be hilarious….the random dates with others too omg I’m ngl I kinda live for fics that incorporate other characters in sometimes too like I love being immersed in the universe….imagine on top of that at some point Karasu is running out of options like he’s gone through all the main dudes who he’d think have any sliver of rizz like he’s throwing chigiri Otoya Barou and even Isagi or maybe he’s thinks y/n is just playing and that she actually likes yuki…but at some point he’s like there’s no fucking way and you THINK he finally gets the message but he’s like “you like hiori??? Yk he doesn’t touch grass right” Cue the facepalm but y/n goes anyways and ends up ranting about Karasu to hiori since hiori has known Karasu the longest LMAO and they become friends too and y/n gains like, another semi wingman HAHAHAH

Poor Yukimiya I think it’d be so funny to see him like on his knees ripping his hair out of frustration like facepalming every other hour like these two are so fucking dumb…..

AIRPORT TRIP BUT OMGGG NOO MOTION SICKNESS……tbh I think I built up a resistance to motion sickness after kinda just like…brute forcing my way through the ride LOL but I’ve noticed not looking out the windows can help…..maybe take some Advil if you have any? Or eat a mint sometimes I’ve noticed something minty helps too!! but YAY I’m glad you liked them LMAO I leave them in your capable hands….always down to leave more ideas that was fun HAHA

-Karasu anon

facts the ONLY exception is seabird sae he’s bae we love him otherwise we have to keep those boys humble ☝🏻 can NOT cave 😩

HAHAHA PLSSS i’ll start playing seagull calls on my phone beforehand just to really set the mood…a sandwich is a small sacrifice to make for my summer romcom moment ☝🏻 the moment i see a mf from osaka with a smirk that takes up half of his face i’m TACKLING that man idec how many sandwiches it takes i will not let him get away 😟‼️

i love bantering with people i love but ALSO i am such a gossiper about other people!! so like while i can easily envision talking shit w nagi (even though he isn’t exactly the easiest to banter with) isagi just feels too nice he’d be like “let’s not be hateful 😔💔” LMAOAOA

tbh idr mind if people love villains or whatever because sure i see the appeal but when they act like they did no wrong or deserve better THAT’S what gets me!! like yes geto was a product of his environment but also he reacted in an irredeemable way and is by no means a good person for it 😔 what REALLY gets me is when people blame characters like yuki tsukumo for choices that GETO made!! like i’m sorry but her having a scholarly and theoretical conversation with a peer by no means makes her the entire cause of his downfall…SO MANY comments on pi about how they hate yuki because “she’s the reason why geto became evil” it pisses me off so bad because it’s misogynistic honestly!! like the woman who barely knows geto and is not at all responsible for him and was just trying to make conversation (she wasn’t even there to see him she wanted to talk to gojo!!) is more responsible for geto’s behavior than geto himself?? when GETO made the choice??? ughhh tbh i liked geto as a character but there’s a certain kind of fan that he has and they all annoy me sm

THE BAROU SNOW ONE WAS MY FAVORITE I CAN JUST IMAGINE IT BEING LIKE A ONE SIDED PRANK WAR?? like barou thinks reader is fucking w him meanwhile she’s just living her life and being normal 😭 maybe i would have to write some scenes in barou’s pov just to show how he’s like INFURIATED he is whereas reader is just like “my hot but lowkey scary neighbor keeps coming over is he into me 😳”

THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING like he starts off w the typical suspects (reo, otoya, barou, isagi) and every time it doesn’t work out he gets more and more desperate…throws nagi and bachira at her but still no dice LMAOAO like bro is absolutely LOST because his analysis skills are saying the reader likes SOMEONE on the team but he can’t figure out who for the life of him?? meanwhile yukimiya is SCREAMING like my man is in PAIN 😔 karasu tries to set him up with the reader and that’s when he finally and truly snaps 😫 i truly think the misunderstandings would be so funny and silly…the bllkers are as confused as the reader about what is going on because why does karasu keep dragging them to hangouts with yukimiya’s childhood bff and then randomly disappearing??

i had some mint gum but tbh it didn’t help 😔💔 i get migraines around my menstrual cycle which make me dizzy and nauseous so even though I don’t normally get motion sick it’s really hitting today 😓 i’m on birth control for that and the ovarian cysts i have and it’s def helping but still not perfect by any means 😪 oh well i will be in switzerland soon and that’s all that matters!! we are boarding in a couple of minutes so i will disappear shortly and then be back once we’ve landed 🤩

[justasillybear]

Is that a Dog?

It all started, as did many of the things that went wrong in Percy’s life, by not asking the right questions.

In his defence, it hadn’t seemed necessary to ask Grover anything other than “Can I have one” when his best friend and roommate had pulled out some freshly baked brownies from the oven.

First mistake.

The second mistake was sneaking two more brownies while Grover hadn’t been looking.

It could be said, as Percy would later point out, that Grover was the one responsible for everything that happened after that. Months later Percy would look back on that moment and realise Grover hadn’t even attempted to warn him that there was weed in the brownies. Then he’d shake his head and think wow Grover really screwed me over. But that was months away.

In the present, Percy felt like he was floating, everything felt bright and new, and Grover was driving him to go get a milkshake. How could he be mad at Grover when he was the reason Percy felt so at peace? He could hear Grover’s Michael Franti CD playing, and his soft voice singing along, not quite drowned out by the loud honks of irate drivers stuck like them in New York traffic. If he were in a clearer state of mind, Percy would likely have realised that Grover had also eaten one of the brownies and shouldn’t have really been driving. But he wasn’t, instead he let his eyes drift out the window up towards the perfectly blue sky. So blue it almost looked like the ocean and Percy wondered if he just reached up would he fall in and-

What?

Holy. Shit.

“A puppy!” Percy screeched, starting out of the window and at the car a few places ahead of them to the left. He turned to Grover and pointed to the little golden retriever that was poking its head out of a car window. It’s tongue was hanging out of its mouth and Percy felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t known it before, but now he realised that was what he’d been missing in his life.

“Nice spot, what a cute dog.” Grover approved, peering over, his eyes looking slightly red and heavy-lidded.

“He looks... Like he gives good hugs”. Percy mused. He desperately wanted to test out his theory. Percy sent up a quick prayer asking for help, and was elated to find the traffic moving. He waited with bated breath while their lane moved forward until they were parked next to the dog. “Fuck yes!” he virtually screamed. Today was the best day!

“He's so tiny?” Percy mused, eyes continuing to stare dreamily over and then… the puppy looked at him and BARKED. And Percy just knew he was calling out to him. Asking to be petted.

Percy unbuckled his seat belt and rolled down the window, decidedly ignoring Grover’s confused exclamations. “He wants to be petted!” Percy offered as he reached out to touch soft golden fur. The dog yipped happily in response, pushing his small wet nose into the offered hand. Percy could feel his eyes growing misty again. He loved dogs so much. He’d always wanted one growing up, but Gabe had never allowed it. His mum had felt bad about it, getting him a fish instead which he’d loved - but it wasn’t the same. Don’t get him wrong, fish were awesome and that gift had been one of the reasons he was now studying marine biology. But… no fish had ever given him this moment. The moment where they look at you with adoration in their eyes and promise to love you forever. Percy hoped the puppy knew that Percy felt the same way.

“Um, Luke. A stranger is petting your dog.”

Percy looked up from the deep blue eyes of his new ride-or-die bestie and saw a blond girl who looked to be around his age staring at him like he was crazy (which Percy thought was a little rude.)

“Is he your dog?” Percy questioned, reluctantly removing his hand away realising that he should probably have asked the owner’s permission before sticking the upper half of his body out of the car to pet their dog. Even a dog as friendly as this, with beautiful and kind blue eyes.

“No. He’s-“

“Mine.” A deep voice cut in, pulling Percy’s attention to the driver seat of the car, where a young man with bright blue eyes, soft golden hair, and a truly wicked smirk was staring at him. The guy looked around 19 with a gnarly looking scar trailing down from his eye to his chin. Which … Damn! The scar should have detracted from how unfairly attractive he was, but instead, it made Percy want to lean over and touch it. He wondered how it would feel. If it would be rough?

Focus Percy!

“Wow, Annabeth, you didn’t say he was cute”. Percy felt his cheeks flush, and he could hear himself spluttering out nonsense for a good few moments, searching for an appropriate response.

The guy kind of looked like his dog, which was weird. What was even weirder was that the realisation made Percy want to reach out and pet his hair too, to see if it was just as soft as his dogs.

“Uuuh, noo..what, not? I’m not… you’re the one that’s. I don’t – cute! Grover. This guy thinks I’m cute?” Percy managed eventually, much to the growing amusement of the man in question. He quickly averted his eyes, turning to Grover who stared back giggling softly. Traitor.

“Percy, you’re very cute. Now you need to sit back down. We could move at any moment.”  Grover managed between breathy giggles. He didn’t sound very concerned, so Percy decided it was safe to ignore his warning for now. If Percy had to choose between personal safety and the opportunity to spend time with a cute dog and an equally cute owner, well, safety didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay, Grover,” Percy said in a peaceful tone, turning back around to once again pet the head of the puppy, “but I’m in the middle of something very important right now.” At this Grover’s laughter got louder.

“You!” Percy pointed at the driver, “Have a nice face. And smile. And eyes. Grover and I are going to get milkshakes, would you and your puppy like to join us? We could hold hands and talk about your dog and how all three of you are rocking the blond blue eyes thing-”

“Percy the traffic is moving…” Grover butted in.

“Grover, a moment!” Percy begged, yelping when Grover started to inch the car forwards with the traffic, Percy’s torso still half out of the car. Luck seemed to be on his side today however as the other lane was also moving slowly alongside them, so Percy decided to just continue to pet the dog's head. He shot a quick glare at Grover for good measure though.

“Hey idiot, you need to listen to him and get in the car. What if traffic picks up?” the girl warned, mumbling to herself about high idiots.

“Percy is it?” the driver asked, drawing Percy’s attention away from Grover and back to his unfairly handsome face. Percy could feel a grin stretching across his lips.

“How’d you know my name?” he wonders, feeling pleased. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the older guy, all deep and slow like he was savouring each syllable. The guy laughed at the question.

“Your boyfriend there’s said it a few times.” He explained, and Percy nodded vigorously in understanding, and then begun to shake his head equally as energetically. “Grover? No! He’s like… a brother. Definitely not my boyfriend.” Percy explained forcefully, He really didn’t want the hot guy to get the wrong idea. Grover was his best friend, but he’d rather jump into the harbour than date him.

“Why the harbour?” the guy asked through chuckles. Percy hoped he’d keep laughing, the sound was making his head feel as light as the brownies had.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup, green eyes, you did. And I’m sorry, I’d love to hang out more, but I need to drop my sister off at her girlfriends.” He said, pointing a finger at the girl in the backseat. Percy turned to look at her with sad eyes. The girl with golden curls looked like she couldn’t decide if she should smile or scowl. He was disappointed to note her eyes were more grey than blue.

“Oh, that’s sad.” Percy pouted, retreating back slightly into Grover’s car. Before he was fully in, the guy reached out a hand to stop him. He had nice hands, they were large and calloused, and Percy wanted to hold one.

“Wait. Um, maybe I could give you my number, so I know you got home alright? My name's Luke Castellan. C-A-S-T-E-L-L-A-N. We could get that milkshake another… less traffic-bound time?” Luke asked, looking nervous for the first time, making Percy grin. He quickly whipped out his phone and typed in Luke’s details.

“yes! .” He cheered, once to Luke, and then once again to the dog who was still nuzzling his hand. “So, I’ll see you both soon?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Percy.” Luke teased and Percy felt himself nodding.

“Promise,” Percy said firmly, sliding back into the car to Grover's relief. He waved at Luke once the window was rolled up, pleased to see the guy was still staring over at him. He looked like he was saying sometimes but Percy couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it made the girl in the backseat lean forward and smack his shoulder. Luke waved one final time before turning his eyes back to the road. His face looked bright and carefree, and Percy wanted to look at him forever. Then the traffic moved and Luke, and his puppy, were gone.

Percy tried not to feel too sad, but he wished he’d taken a picture.

“Only Percy-fucking-Jackson could get a guy’s number after molesting his dog while high in traffic.” Grover giggled, and Percy allowed himself to be dragged away from his thoughts.

“What can I say. I’m irresistible”. He stated, smirking over at his best friend. Grover just continued to giggle. Laying back in his seat he looked back up to the perfect blue sky and thought of Luke's eyes. Luke Castellan, Luke Castellan, Luke-

Maybe he wouldn’t blame Grover after all.

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 4: The First Gig

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist.

Chapter Summary: Michelle is worried that Izzy will reveal her secret about her being Duff. Free coffee, and their first gig as Guns N’ Roses!

Masterlist

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list or if I forgot to add you. (I’m not the best with tag lists

Author’s Note: sorry this chapter is kinda long, but I didn’t want to beak it into two smaller chapters.

Chapter 4

I balanced the coffee as I quickly knocked on the door of the Hell House as the guys called it. Axl had arranged a band meeting for god knows what reason this morning before our first gig. As I peaked into the windows, I quickly realized there was no movement inside. So much for our morning meeting, the guys were probably still asleep.

Things had been going pretty well this past week, not to brag or anything. It was probably one of the more stressful weeks in my life with the pressure of a gig around the corner. Lucky for me most of songs were covers I had played before, and the guys helped me with any originals. I would be lying if I said Macy didn’t pound on my bedroom door telling me to stop in the middle of the night. She would always look at me like a crazy person when she told me to stop and quizzed me on why I wasn’t sleeping. I always shrugged and said I wanted to be ready for the gig. I didn’t want to let my band down; however, that was only part of the reason. I never told her about Izzy. It had been a week since Izzy had casually dropped the bomb that he knew that I was masquerading as a guy.Since that day he hasn’t brought it up. Even after spending over 8 hours a day practicing, he didn’t say a word about it. If we talked, it was about music or tweaks we could make to sound better. He was a good musician, he really had an ear for it. All of them did actually, I was lucky they chose me.

“Mornin,” I was met with a very tired Izzy. He held the door open for me as I walked in quickly realizing that there was no way we were going to have a meeting in a couple minutes.

I walked into the living room and set the coffees down on the nearest flat surface I could find. I felt a flash a relief flow through me as the drinks safely made it to their destination. I had spent the last Thierry minutes of my very boring shift making them.

“They’re labeled, I’m assuming you know what your name is?” I said before plopping down on the couch.

“Any reason for the...” Izzy gestured towards the coffee what was sitting on the table nearby.

“Michelle was working this morning and wanted to treat the band with something nice because morning meetings suck...especially if Axl arranged the meeting,” I causally responded trying to keep up my act.

“Is she coming to the gig tonight? I’d love to thank her in person,” I rolled my eyes at his comment and sent him my best ‘are you serious look?’ earning a quiet chuckle from him.

I watched from the corner of my eye to see if I got his order right. I watched as he smiled after taking the sip.

“How many people know?” His question shouldn’t have caught me off guard but it did none the less.

“Depends,” my answer was short in hopes that he would drop it. Inside the house where the rest of the band was currently sleeping wasn’t the ‘ideal’ place to have this conversation.

“Depends on what?”

“On how many people you have told.”

“I’ve told no one,” his answer caught me off guard as I raised a brow.

“Really? Not even your Indiana brother?” This earned another laugh from him as he shook his head no.

“Do people seriously call us that?”

“That’s how I was introduced to y’all. I believe it went something like ‘and those pair of dicks right there are Axl and Izzy. Don’t waste your words on them. The redhead will get pissy no matter what you say, and I highly doubt the other would even pay attention.” I took another sip remembering Derek from my last band Double Dead introducing them to me them as if I hadn’t known who Izzy and Axl were. After a while on the strip you learn who’s who rather quickly. The main question was if what you learn about a person was the truth. Word of mouth was a dangerous thing

“Wow that’s harsh,” part of me felt bad for Izzy and I honestly should have left that out the last part.

“Well that’s when I was apart Double Dead, which looking back was a shifty band name. If I remembered correctly later that evening after the gig you guys beat the living shout out of my band,” I couldn’t help but check at how much of a train wreck that night was.

“That was the night you got me good with your bass!” I smiled as his laughed quickly joined mine.

“So you did recognize my bass! It was the dent wasn’t it?”

“How could I forget the bass that got me in the side of the head. Not every day does a chick beat you with her bass. Left a bruise for a month.”

“Well...in my defense I was aiming for Axl...sorry,” I felt bad remembering that night.

“No need to apologize, pretty sure Axl started the fight.”

“Little Axl Rose? Him? Noo....he would NEVER start a fight,” I teased back. It was moments like this regret flooded me. What if I came to them as Michelle instead of Duff? How different would things had been?

“What’s in this?” Izzy pulled me from my thoughts and back to reality as he spoke.

“Just like a magician, a barista never revels her secret,” I teased as I tried to hide the smile that was growing like a weed on my face.

My original plan was to make black coffee’s for everyone, but I knew Steven wouldn’t like it. Once I started making Steven’s, I thought why not make the rest of the guys a personal cup.

“You still mad at Axl?”

“No, why?” I turned my attention back towards Izzy as he spoke.

“The small cup, I’m assuming it’s for Axl because he called Michelle a mediocre bassist,” I shook my head and couldn’t help the laughter escape my lips.

“The small cup is for Steven. The last thing that boy needs is a lot of caffeine,” this time it was Izzy’s laughter that filled the room.

“If I....Michelle...wanted to mess with Axl, she would have put milk that was beyond spoiled and mixed in vanilla and berry flavors to mask it. It would give him the runs without knowing what caused it!” I stared in a matter of fact tone. I’m not saying it’s a prank I’ve pulled on my oldest sister, I’m just saying I didn’t not do it. Plus she had it coming.

His laughter filled the room again, “noted”

“What do we have here?” Slash asked looking at the coffee cups sitting on the table.

“Coffee, each of them are apparently different. Yours has your name on it,” Izzy said

“What’s mine?”

“Medium roast with cream,” I quickly responded earning a glare from Izzy.

“Not too bad,” he shrugged before joining us on the couches.

“How come he gets to know, but I don’t?” I had to mask the smile of my face with a shrug. He had made me feel like I was walking on glass, afraid he would tell the guys I’m actually a girl, all week. This wasn’t on the same level, but it made me feel like for once I had an upper hand. (Even though it was only coffee)

“I can’t remember? Plus Michelle is the one who made them anyway,” I raised my arms in defense never breaking eye contact.

“You dating her or some shit like that,” I watched as Izzy immediately took a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk.

“No, why?” I was frozen as I tried to understand his logic.

“Well she’s kinda acting like a groupie...”

“Who’s acting like a groupie?” Steven popped into the room like the morning sun.

“Michelle,” Izzy responded. I hated how much he was enjoying this. He was enjoying watching me squirm.

“Kinda tall, brunette, bassist, nice legs?” Slash asked with Steven quickly nodding.

I continued to drink my coffee wishing that I could turn invisible. This felt weird. I felt like I should leave the room or something.

“You should invite her to the gig tonight,” Steven’s heart was in the right place and what he was trying to do was sweet, but I wanted him the shut the fuck up. There was a small logistics problem with Duff inviting Michelle to the gig.

“Yeah! We can thank her for the coffee after the gig,” I glared at Izzy as he spoke. He was enjoying this. That bastard...

“I doubt she’ll come,” I shot back at Izzy.

“Who won’t come?,” by now Axl had finally made it down to the living room. He quickly grabbed the last coffee. Why the hell was everyone waking up NOW.

“Michelle, the bassist” I shot back.

I watched as a smirk formed on his face before he took a quick sip of his coffee, “Yeah, she ain’t coming. She’ll probably avoid Guns N’ Roses like the plague. Especially after what happened with Pixie and Double Dead.”

I prayed he wouldn’t elaborate what happened with Pixie. He could talk about Double Dead all he wanted. Pixie though, Pixie was another story.

————————-

“Stop being such a girl Duff, your hair looks fine,” I sent Izzy a glare from across the room. I could tell he was all too happy with his comment. That bastard had been teasing me all week, and aI was getting sick and tired of it.

“If anyone is the girl here it’s Axl,”

“It’s called Glam Slash!” By now Axl was standing where I was only moments ago applying some additional eyeshadow.

“How many cans of hairspray did you have to steal to get your hair to stick like that,” Izzy said above the laughter.

Axl’s hair resembled a lion’s mane. It was impressive and I was beyond jealous. I wished I hadn’t cut off most of my hair, so I could recreate his hairstyle.

“You’re just jealous! Chicks dig the big hair!” He shot back at Izzy.

“He’s not wrong,” I couldn’t help but smirk as I spoke, my voice barely auditable over the noise of the bar. Izzy just rolled his eyes and went back to messing with his guitars.

“You’re on in 5,” a man yelled into our tiny room causing all of my nerves to flood my body. That’s when I realized it had been months since I had performed on stage. I could already feel my palms getting sweaty as I sat down next to Steven. I could feel him watching me as I wiped my hands against my pants.

I felt him pat my back causing me to look up at him. “No need to be nervous. You’ll kick ass out there.”

I sent him a fake smile which he obviously didn’t by. “Dude, Duff, you’ll be fine. Plus it’s always good to be nervous!”

“Why would I want to be nervous? That’s when you make mistakes?” I shot back. Steven is a great guy, but sometimes I don’t understand what he’s getting at.

“Being nervous just means you care. Plus it’s your first show on the strip! You’ll love it! The energy is incomparable!” There was some sort of sparkle in Steven’s eyes that was uplifting. It was like a child talking about all of the candy they got on Halloween.

“Here,” I looked up to Izzy who handed me a shot.

“It will help, and if it doesn’t we have plenty more,” I nodded and took the shot from him and held back a cough as the burn traveled down my throat.

I earned a cheer from Steven and Slash passed me my bass.

“Alright boys lets go kick some ass and show them a show they won’t forget!” Axl yelled right before they walked onto the stage.

And kick ass we did! Despite Axl hating snakes, his dancing reminded me of some type of rattlesnake. It was pretty entertaining to watch, but Slash running around the stage like a mad man was even better. After our third song in the set, I quickly followed Slash’s insanity. The entire performance felt like a breath of fresh air, and the moment I stepped off of the stage I wanted to get right back up there. It just felt right. We clicked. I had lost tracks of the amount of times I have performed on a stage, but I have NEVER felt anything like I felt tonight. This was something special. Maybe this was the band that would make it. Maybe?

Steven raised a bottle of god know what and cheered, “To Duff, no longer a Sunset Strip virgin.” Cheering and laughter filled the room as he spoke. I knew what he was getting at, but there were thousands of better ways to phrase it.

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” I said before stumbling towards the door. The air outside was more refreshing than the cold beer and vodka I had been drinking since the gig was over.

“Congrats,” I turned to see Izzy standing in the doorway.

“Same to you,” I smiled.

“Well I wasn’t a Sunset Strip virgin before the show so...” I glared at Izzy only for a second before I join in his laughter at what Steven had said earlier.

“How much has he had to drink? Because I don’t think he thought that last sentence through,” I joked back.

“Good thing you aren’t a girl; otherwise, his statement would have been taken into an entirely different context. Very inappropriate,” Izzy cooly replied earning a small chuckle from me. Guy’s minds are all the same.

“I was worried Steven was going to fall out of his seat while he was playing earlier,” I said in hopes of changing the subject.

“That’s popcorn for ya!” He offered me a smile before he went back to smoking.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, I added “And for someone who hates snakes, Axl sure dances like one.”

Izzy nodded apparently keen on not wanting to have a conversation. Fine then, awkward silence it was. I still needed the fresh air to help me sober up a little. I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of the strip and the refreshing cold air.

“You never answered my question earlier,” Izzy stared snapping me back.

“Which one?”

“The one about who knows about your secret,” he replied earning a small ‘ohhh’ from me.

“At least four people know. You, Macy, Walter, and Betsie,” I replied.

“How’d Betsie find out?”

“She saw my face,” I shrugged as I spoke to him. It was inevitable. I was originally hoping I could hide behind my hair, but Macy cut it just a tad too short, so I was wearing sunglasses.

“You do have a unique face,” I shot him a confused look. Was that supposed to be a compliment or insult? I just shook my head and decided against pressing further.

“So what’s the plan?” I turned to Izzy as he once again broke the silence and pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Plan for what?”

“You can’t remain a guy forever. You’re a chick, eventually you’re going to have to reveal that,” he turned towards me as he stomped out his cigarettes

“When we get our record deal or first tour.”

“When? Wow someone’s getting cocky,” Izzy shot back.

“Did you feel it?” My voice was barely louder than a mouse as I spoke.

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know Izzy, it’s hard to describe. But when we were playing I felt something. Yeah, we had a small crowd, but I felt something I’ve never felt before!”

“Yeah, I felt it too, but be careful we already have one cocky bastard in the band, we don’t need a second.”

“Yeah...yeah...”

More silence followed.

“Is it weird, preforming as Duff?”

I sent Izzy a small smiled and shook my head yes.

“It’s like a mask I put on. When I’m on stage playing, I’m always Michelle. There is no changing who I am inside. Whenever I look in the mirror or play Guns N’ Roses songs it feels weird. Guns an’ Roses is Duff’s,” I took relief as I said those words out loud.

“I like your hair by the way. The brown part that you didn’t dye, it’s kinda poetic. Even though you put on this show that you’re Duff, Michelle is still there,” Izzy said before turning to head back inside.

“Hey Iz, how do you think the guys would react if I told them....” my heart sunk the moment my eyes met his.

[writinginstardust]

Pining For A Prince | Part 1

Pairing: Keith x Lance 

Warnings: little bit of language

A/N: So I saw this adorable Disneyland AU by @caelestee a couple of weeks ago and was obsessed with the idea of this AU so I decided I needed to write it. It’s the first Klance thing I’ve ever written but it’s also one of my favourite things I’ve ever written so 🤷‍♀️ It’s primarily Klance but there’s some background Romellura, Hunay and Adashi too. I don’t know how long this is going to end up being and how long it’s going to take to update every time but it will be finished eventually so I hope you stick with it if you enjoy it!

Word Count: 2663

*

Keith wiped the excess sweat from his brow as the little girl and her family walked away. He was boiling alive in the early-afternoon Californian sun but seeing the smiles he put on the faces of the little kids who came up to him made it all worth it. Contrary to popular belief, Keith actually wasn't as shy or brooding as most people assumed, he just naturally gave off a loner vibe in everyday life. He was great with kids and he loved being able to make others smile, his job at disneyland was a dream.

A soft gasp met his ears and he turned towards the sound, finding a young girl with bright red hair tugging on her mother's arm not far away.

“Mummy! Mummy! It's Prince Eric, I have to meet him!”

“Okay darling, go ahead.” The girl squealed with delight and ran towards him as her mother followed at a more leisurely pace.

“Ariel! Could it be? I've been looking everywhere for you!” Keith expertly feigned his character's surprise and joy at seeing ‘his princess’, his reaction making her giggle, the sound purer than anything he'd ever heard.

“Noo-o-ooo-oo,” her laughter broke up the drawn-out sound into more syllables than it should have been as she shook her head, “I'm not Ariel, she's my favourite princess though!” Keith gave her a thoughtful look as he crouched down to her level.

“Are you sure? You look just like her!” The girl giggled and blushed some more. “If you're really not Ariel then what's your name little princess?”

“Esme, but I'm not a princess, Prince Eric.”

“Esme, huh? Well that's kind of a pretty name. Princess Esme, it's an honour to meet you.” He stood and gave her a little bow before crouching down to talk to her again. After a few minutes she was ready to move on.

“Can I get picture please?” She asked before leaving.

“Of course princess!”

The girl's mother took out her phone and Keith posed with the girl for a couple of photos before also signing her autograph book. He promised to tell Ariel all about her before she met her later and the girl walked away with a grin wide enough to split her own face in two.

“Well who knew Mr brooding could be so charming? I may just swoon.” The teasing voice of Matt, or as he was known to park guests - Peter Pan, came from right behind him and he almost jumped out of his skin. He looked around quickly, seeing that the immediate area was mostly clear.

“Jesus, Matt! Warn a guy next time.”

“I'd say sorry if I was.”

“I appreciate that. And obviously I can be charming, I had to be to get the job. It remains a mystery how a menace like you managed to get cast though.” He smirked at his friend who just shrugged and grinned back as they both headed towards a cast member-only area for a break.

“Why do you think I got Peter Pan?”

“How's it going with your sister as your new Tink?”

“She's doing good so far, definitely has the mischievous persona down, and she's warming up to all the meeting and greeting.”

“That's good to hear. Honestly I was surprised when she told us the news, I always thought she hated kids.”

“She doesn't really, she's not a fan of the idea of having them but she's pretty good with them when she tries.” Matt shrugged and grabbed a bottle of water, downing the whole thing before reaching for another as Keith did the same. He almost choked on it a second later as a voice he'd recognise anywhere reached him.

“Keith! Matt! What's up guys?” Lance. Neither he nor Matt could reply immediately, Keith too busy choking and Matt laughing at him. “You okay buddy?” Lance came over to him and clapped a hand between his shoulders in an attempt to help.

“Yeah...I'm good.” He managed to splutter out and Matt finally managed to stop laughing.

“Great. Well, I've gotta get back out there, Allura's waiting on me. I'll see you both before the parade!” Lance disappeared almost as quickly as he'd arrived and Keith was left staring at the space he'd occupied just moments ago. His brain struggled to catch up with the swiftness of the interaction as it continued to fixate on where Lance's hand had rested on his back.

“If you don't stop with the dewy-eyed schoolgirl look in the next five seconds I'm telling everyone about your crush on Lance.” Matt threatened after spending a good 30 seconds waiting for Keith to snap out of it. The threat had the desired effect and Keith whipped his head round with a glare so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.

“I will kill you if you even think about it, Holt.”

“I'd like to see you try.” It was an empty challenge, they both knew Keith would easily beat Matt in a fight but they also knew Keith would never hurt a friend. “But seriously, you should ask him out anyway.”

“Not unless you stop making heart eyes at the girl from the gift shop and actually talk to her.”

“Hey! I'll make a move eventually.”

“We all know that's not true, Matt.” A new voice joined their conversation.

“Shut up Shiro, you don't get to judge when it took you 3 years to ask Adam on a date.”

“Touché. You're still hopeless though.” He grinned as Matt scowled and Keith gave him a high five, glad to have someone on his side.

“Not as hopeless as your brother - the Prince of pining.”

“True, it must run in the family.” Keith shot his brother a betrayed look.

“Et tu, Brute?”

“Keith, you've had this crush on Lance since your sophomore year and you barely ever even talk to the guy, you brought the teasing on yourself.”

“Don't you have work to be doing?” Keith's voice was almost a growl, siblings really were the worst sometimes.

“Nope, I'm on a break. I've got a full 20 minutes to irritate my little brother.” He grinned the kind of grin which strikes pure fear into the heart of a younger sibling for it promises the kind of mischief and evil only an older sibling has the power to rain down on them. Keith, all too aware of the depths to which he and Shiro would go, wisely decided to make a swift exit at the sight of it. Yeah, he still had about 10 minutes of his break left but he decided just to take some extra time before the parade. No way was he going to suffer through Shiro's teasing if there was another choice.

“Well in that case I'm going back out. See you later guys.”

“Later Keith!” Matt called after him as he practically jogged away.

“You can't escape this forever Keith! I'm going to tease the shit out of you back home!” Shiro's not-quite-farewell earned him the middle finger from Keith and his answering laugh seemed to follow Keith even after he was well out of earshot. Brothers really were hell.

*

An hour after his brief encounter with Keith, Lance's hand was still tingling as if some of Keith's very essence still clung to it and the constant reminder was only prolonging his internal freak out. He spun Allura with practiced grace as they performed together for a small crowd in New Orleans Square but even the feeling of her hand in his couldn't rid him of the memory of how it had felt to touch Keith.

Finally their dance came to an end and Lance spent a few minutes talking to the kids and taking photos alongside Allura before they headed off to get ready for the afternoon parade. He couldn't keep the grin off his face or the spring from his step as they walked over to where the rest of the cast members gathered, so excited to get to see Keith again. However briefly that may be. The boy was beautiful, Lance was unafraid the admit that, especially in his Prince get-up, and even just a glimpse of his smile could make Lance's heartbeat go wild.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when he'd started developing a crush, certainly it was back in high school sometime. Back when Keith had been little more than a brooding shadow at the back of his classes, an enigma that Lance had spent far too much time trying to figure out instead of focusing on his studies. Knowing it was hopeless though, he'd buried that crush deep down for a long time and moved on, that was, until they'd both gotten cast as princes at Disneyland and Lance had found himself falling all over again.

It had been a shock, if he was honest, that not only had Keith auditioned (Keith! brooding, slightly menacing Keith wanted a job at Disneyland!), but he'd actually got the job. Knowing what the job entailed meant re-evaluating everything he'd thought he knew about Keith and, with this new perspective on the guy, Lance knew he was screwed. And that was before he'd seen him in costume!

“Someone's excited to see his Prince Charming it seems.” Allura's smirk was clear in her voice and Lance didn't even bother to turn his head to see it.

“He's Prince Eric, not Prince Charming. Wrong movie Allura.” He replied without thinking and it took a few seconds for him to realise his mistake. “Shit.”

He could feel the triumph radiating from the girl beside him and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up right there. Allura loved nothing more than to tease him and he'd just handed her all the ammunition she needed to make his life hell for at least a couple of months.

“Oh my god! You finally admitted it Lance! I finally got you!” She bounced along beside him and clapped gleefully. “Oh this is perfect!”

“Allura, I swear if you breathe a word to anyone else I will stop helping you with Romelle.” He didn't particularly like having to use that threat, he wanted Allura and Romelle to get together as much as anyone, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She pouted at that but agreed.

“Fine, I won't say anything but nothing you can do is going to stop the teasing. And I am sooo helping you get him, it's now my mission in life.”

“You're a nightmare.” He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation but his voice was fond.

“Yep, but that's why you love me...almost as much as you love Keith.” She grinned and ran ahead to join the rest of their friends before Lance had a chance to retaliate and he sighed once again before walking over at a more leisurely pace.

“Lance!” Matt and Pidge yelled in sync, identical mischievous smiles on both their faces as they waved him over. He didn't trust those smiles one bit.

“Hey guys, how's it going?” He asked, somehow managing to keep his suspicion out of his voice and off his face.

“Oh same as ever, just now with the added entertainment from my darling sister.” Matt pulled said sister into a side hug which looked to be crushing the smaller girl.

“Fuck off Matt.”

“Language Pidgey! This is Disney, no swearing allowed!” Lance gave her the disappointed parent look and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You can fuck off as well.” The two boys just sighed.

“You really are a delight to be around you know?”

“I try.” Her smile was falsely sweet as she batted her eyelashes before something behind Lance caught her eye. He watched with growing dread as that smile turned downright wicked and spun around to see what caused it. His stomach dropped as he saw Keith and Ezor a few feet away, deep in conversation, whatever Pidge had in mind was not going to end well for him.

“Keith! Dude come over here!” Keith looked over at the shout and Lance saw his face twisting with some sort of emotion he couldn't decipher as he saw the three of them. Ezor, however, looked knowingly between them and smirked before dragging over a reluctant Keith.

“Fancy seeing you here,” She said by way of greeting, still with that oddly knowing look.

“Considering it's their job as well as ours, that shouldn't be so surprising.” Keith helpfully pointed out.

“You're no fun.”

“Leave him alone, it's not his fault he's intrinsically grumpy.” Pidge finally managed to extract herself from Matt's hug in time to properly tease Keith.

“I hate all of you.”

“Liar.”

“Pidge, if you called me over just to be mean then I'm going. Maybe the princesses will be better company.” Lance felt himself wilt slightly at the prospect of Keith going, the break before the parade was one of the few times in the day he had a chance to have a proper conversation with him. Even when he could hardly manage to say a word, he could at least be in his presence and sometimes that was enough.

“Y'know, I expect they would be. YO ALLURA!” The heads of all the girls whipped around at the yell. “Bring your princess troupe over here, these guys are boring.”

“Coming!” She, Nadia, Romelle, Shay, and Nyma came to join them though the rest of the princesses elected not to, they'd never really gotten comfortable in this particular group of friends.

“What's up?” Nadia greeted them and Lance zoned out the conversation for a bit. Keith had shuffled closer to him to make room for the girls and he became uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating from him even through the heat of the day. He spent most of the next 10 minutes sneaking glances at Keith whenever there was no attention on him. He couldn't help it, whenever he was around him his gaze was drawn to the boy like a magnet and he was long passed trying to resist the pull.

“Alright, 5 minutes to show time, everyone in place!” Coran interrupted both Lance’s thoughts and the group’s conversation, all of them heading off to their respective floats. He chanced one last glance at Keith, only to find him already looking at him. Cheeks heating alarmingly, Lance whipped his head back round and boarded his float where Allura was waiting, a falsely innocent smile on her face as she pointedly didn’t look at him. It was a deliberate tactic to irritate him into talking to her and letting her tease him. He knew this but he still asked anyway.

“What’s that smile for.”

“Oh nothing, just planning you and Keith’s wedding, it’s going to be beautiful, a private beach ceremony at sunset, fireworks later, fairy lights everywhere, you two sneaking off to dance and kiss on the beach and under the stars during the reception. Shiro will be Keith’s best man, Hunk yours, your niece will be the cutest flower girl ever and Pidge, Romelle, Veronica and I can be your bridesmaids. You can do the bouquet throw and we'll all let Shay catch it and Hunk will be all flustered as it gives him the courage to finally propose to her. Everyone will be happy crying and we'll all eat too much and drink too much and we'll have the biggest party ever. No one will ever want it to end. It will be even better than Shiro and Adam’s.”

“Shiro hasn’t even proposed yet.”

“I know, but I have their wedding planned already as well. Yours will be better though.”

“I’m not marrying Keith, Allura, it’s just a crush. An unrequited one at that.”

“Sure it-” before she could finish their float started moving and they had to quickly get into character. It was hard for Lance to concentrate with Allura’s teases circling around his brain. He had to admit, she had planned his perfect wedding. Right down to his perfect groom.

[zara-baloamora]

History Snippet: The Catalyst

(( MUSIC ))

You know the moment change is coming. Time seems to slow, you feel the rush of blood pulsing in your neck as the heavy exhale comes slow with the beat of the dragonhawk’s wings. There’s no stopping it. You can almost feel some bronze time whelp mocking you from the shadows just daring you to try and stop his father’s plans. 

There was a time when we knew a peace. The most my patrol needed to handle was a forest troll pressing the borders of Eversong or help maintain the numbers of the local murlocs if they became too overwhelming. I remember as a little girl looking up to the Windrunners, idolizing them for their prowess and determination. Never in all my years would I have thought I’d be here fighting along side them. A child hopes and then when those hopes come to pass, I found myself wondering what on Azeroth I was thinking. 

Now, a dead human Lord marches on our beloved city bringing their hatred and darkness. The Scourge. I hadn’t had a chance to go home when the call went out. Arthas was pressing our boundaries and so, as swift as my legs would carry me, I ran for the roosts. Whisper was waiting with frantic cries bellowing out from his vibrant orange gullet. He was as anxious as I was to get into the air. I could only hope the Gods would favor us this day. Protect my parents, our people, our homes that were already hard won. 

(( @meteor-wra For mentions)) 

Our tack was swiftly gathered, my blades, bow and quiver. I served the Ranger Corps then, as a Hawkrider and as such we were among the first sent to defend. This time it wasn’t a drill. General Windrunner called and we all took flight, barreling forth with flashes of arcane and biting bolts loosed from our arrows rained down from the unnatural cloud emitted by the smoke of our dragonhawks. The sight is one I’ll never forget, as the smoke cleared. The darkness and stench of death was still lumbering in numbers far exceeding our own. 

“Fall back! The gate is coming down! To the Inner Elfgate! FALL BACK!!”

I almost didn’t hear the call as a ball of flame roared past loosed from one of the enemy’s catapults. Whisper pulled back harder than I was ready for. If not for my boots clutched at his scales I’d have plummeted like the others. I gripped my bow knocking yet another arrow as I summoned the arcane to it’s tip. We had orders to fall back but I couldn’t fall back without seeing some cover delivered to my brothers and sisters below. “Lower!” I cried out the command and Whisper rumbled in his disapproval but heeded the command. 

I looked through the numbers, looking for the pattern, there had to be some way to slow them down. It was in the distance my eyes fell on a clearing in the field. In the middle stood a man covered in a heavy blue armor and a blade that seemed to sing with the cries of the souls it had claimed. As I drew back on my bow and took aim the Quel’dorei dead around his feet began to rise. I couldn’t understand what he’d just done, I didn’t want to understand. The shock and anger loosed my arrow before it was properly aimed. Some where and I couldn’t even say was the blast from the loosed bolt.  

My heart sank to see our dead turned against us. The tactic explained the overwhelming numbers. More than that those faces were friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. Each now raising weapons to head the dead man’s call to strike those of us that remained of our kind down. I stared on, blinking rapidly fighting the tears that were welling in my throat. 

Suddenly a plume of blue scales and feathers were before Whisper. The man on his own dragonhawk, Axzander, held a stern gaze, “Ays, fall back! You’ll help no one by dying here!” His voice growled in command. Coming from the fear and sorrow I gave a quick nod, spurring Whisper to bank left as I leaned back in the saddle to guide him upward. Axzander and I took upward to the skies, Whisper and the blue dragonhawk billowing out new plumes of smoke to cover our retreat. Just before the fog became too heavy, my eyes dared a last peek below as the Outer Elfgate came down. 

What remained of the Ranger Corps fell back and regrouped at the Inner Elfgate. It should have been impenetrable, requiring the Key of the Three Moons. Arthas and his undead forces were relentless. For each we fell two more rose in their place. Brothers fought brothers. Husbands fought wives. Bit by bit Arthas and his Scourge overtook our numbers spreading their death and devastation through our once peaceful land. Every man and woman of able body had been called to defend our city. 

The battle waged on looking more and more hopeless as even the Inner Elfgate fell. I’m not sure I’ve ever fought as hard as I did that day. I refused to become one of his puppets turned against my own kind. A small number of us were pulled to the side to hear a new set of orders. “Burn it. Here.... here.. and here. It’s a loss but they’ll think they’ve won. We can save part of the city but not all of it.” our commander explained as he pointed out key areas of our own city on a map spread over an overturned wagon wheel. “Be swift about it. Then fall back with the rest to Sunstrider Isle.”

Orders came harder and harder to swallow. Sacrifices were taken with little regard and more sacrifices were made to see the first come to an end. I did as I was told. I didn’t have much mind then to question orders. Whisper and I took to the skies once more, loosing arcane bolts into the hordes of dead below as we made our way to the the designated locations. I had to swallow my pride as I gave the command to free the fire from his belly. The city was home, I knew each corner terrace, tower, and shadow almost better than I’d known myself. I had my first kiss, just there. And over there, below Axzander, I got caught sneaking out, father was furious but forgiving. This was home and here I was, digging my heel in to Whisper’s side belting orders to rain fire and arcane to destroy it all. All so the enemy might think they’ve won. 

In the aftermath, even fewer of our numbers remained. Axzander and I flew back over the devastation looking for any sign of survivors. Some one the dead Lord hadn’t’ risen. The land was scarred in such a way, it’s still yet to recover. I’d seen war before, but not like this. Taken hits and gotten back up, but those were hits to the flesh. This was a hit on the heart and soul of who we are or were. Turning our dragonhawks to the southeast shore, I needed to see home. I had no doubts that my parents had heard or been called but I needed to see them well. 

There were corpses littering the land surrounding our modest home as we neared to land. Whisper was still twenty feet from the ground when I took my leave from the saddle. There wasn’t time. I hit the ground running for the house. Heart thudding in my ears. “No” The only thing screaming through my mind. Glass was broken, potted planters smashed, the door half off the hinges. Large arms caught me before I could make it through the entry, looking up I saw my father’s eyes. The look alone was enough to say all things without any words. 

Shaking my head, “No..” the words of my thoughts spilling into life. “Noo!” I roared defiantly and pushed away to dodge. I made it barely four steps when his large arms found their purchase wrapped around my waist. There before my eyes, broken and battered lay my mother. Struggling I fought trying to free myself to get to her. Surely she wasn’t gone, there had to be something I could do. Hurt and angry fists caught my father’s chest as I was blinded by heated tears. 

No matter my rage, he pulled harder till my body gave in heaving sobs at his chest. “She’s gone, Ays... She’s gone...” Came the heartbroken whisper that told more of his pain than he’d let show.

Little did I know then, when I woke that morning intent to spend the day in the sun, that our lives were on a catalyst. We would never be the same for our deeds done and pains felt. The price too steep, racked with guilt and sorrow. That was the day that shifted my path from a Proud Daughter of Quel’thalas to a Broken Child of the Blood. 

[sunken-standard]

Halloween Sentence Meme Fill

From this list, requested by @anitaww-blog​: And for the Halloween starters: “This isn’t one of those Santa Clause things, is it? I don’t want to know what kinds of presents he would bring.” Thank you.

*

"Oh dear God," were the first words out of Sherlock's mouth as he stepped into Molly's flat.  He hadn't even been in Italy for a week and it looked like Molly had moved out and sublet her flat to a combination party supply/ New Age shop.  Bats and antique glass bottles filled with coloured liquids and fake cobwebs and rustic brooms and—were those dried bunches of herbs?  When did she acquire a complete articulated skeleton?  He'd not seen that before, though why she felt the need to put a witch's hat on it was beyond him.

"Oh, you're back!" she said, popping up from behind the breakfast bar like some deranged shop girl.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he asked, wondering if he had, in fact, actually stepped through a vortex in spacetime and ended up in a different universe.  

"It's called a dress," she said, moving to the middle of the kitchen floor and holding out the side of the gauzy black skirt while her other arm extended to nowhere, the fringed shawl (also black) she wore looking vaguely like bat wings as she did an odd little twirl, bowing her back so her hair hung past her bum.  He tried not to stare at where the very low v-neck of the dress gapped and he could see the lace of her bra (even that was black) or at how the high-heeled side-button Victorian boots made her deceptively long legs seem even longer.  

Down boy, he thought, blurting the first not-creepy thing that came to mind.  "You look like you rode a bicycle through a clothesline in Camden Market."

She gave him a look that was the physical equivalent of a wtf? and yes, fine, it made more sense in his head because he'd pictured it like an old film, some kind of out-of-control bicycle chase complete with rollicking piano score and horrified Goth onlookers.  In his defence, he'd only had a nap on the plane and before that he hadn't slept in days.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he recovered.

"It's the Great Pumpkin, Sherlock Holmes!" she grinned.

"Wh—pumpkin?"

"It's from a cartoon.  The Great Pumpkin visits all the good boys and girls on Halloween night and—"

"This isn’t one of those Father Christmas things, is it? I don’t want to know what kinds of presents he would bring.  Probably something naff and covered in purple glitter.  And themed.  Halloween," he scoffed. "How very American."

"It was ours first, I'm taking it back.  Besides, Halloween is the one month a year I can dress like Stevie Nicks every day and not feel silly.  Well, not as silly as I normally would."

"Who?"

She spun again and looked at him expectantly; he wondered if she'd stopped by Baker Street recently for one of Mrs. Hudson's soothers.

"Nevermind.  How was the case?"

"Exhausting, ultimately disappointing, but it's one less favour I owe Mycroft," he said, finally slipping out of his coat.

"Mm.  Better luck next time, I suppose.  Are you hungry?  The ladyfingers should be cool by now."

He looked at the tray on the worktop and yes, exactly what he expected, complete with almonds for the finger nails.

"Oh how novel."  

"I've got mince mice and mummy breadsticks in the oven, if you can wait about," she glanced at the clock, "half an hour?"

"Sounds delicious," he said flatly.  He was hungry, though.  And tired.  "I'm going to have a lie-down until then."

She waved him off and he trudged up the stairs, wondering how they'd ended up an old married couple without so much as ever having kissed; mystery for the ages, he supposed.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the bedroom; gone was the paisley-print duvet and the eight thousand coordinating throw pillows.  The bed was made up in a deep red velvet with black embroidered trim and draped in some kind of sheer black fabric somehow attached to the ceiling and wrapped around the bedposts.

Where had she been storing all this? he thought.  It obviously wasn't new.  He shrugged it off and stripped on his way to the wardrobe, only to find that the plain cotton pyjamas in his drawer had been replaced by black satin.  That was going a bit far, but whatever, he didn't care, he just wanted to sleep.

He woke up rather suddenly to a child standing over him with a knife; he rolled on reflex and the knife plunged into the pillow, sending feathers flying.

"You hesitated, Eurus.  Next time only savour the moment after you've successfully stabbed someone."

"Yes, Father," she said glumly.  "Mother says breakfast is ready."

"Mm.  Go untie your brother and make sure he doesn't wash his hands.  Wiggins!"

"You rang?"  He appeared from the shadows, looming over the bed.

"Do clean this up.  Have you seen Mrs. Hudson?"

"Inna basement, inn't she?"  

"Mm.  It's Thursday, I suppose she's summoning Mrs. Turner for tea again.  Honestly, I wish she'd just content herself with demons, ectoplasm is so hard to get out of the carpet," he muttered, turning this way and that in the mirror, deciding if his moustache needed to be trimmed. Wiggins held out his dressing gown, but Sherlock opted for the pinstripe jacket instead; no time for lounging this morning.

He went downstairs to the dining room, the table already laid for breakfast.  Eurus and Mycroft came running in, Mycroft covered in dirt.  Soil from the western corner of the garden, by the look of it.  Eurus did so love the family plot; he smiled fondly as he wondered who she'd dug up to replace with Mycroft this time.

Molly came floating in, resplendent as always in her hobble skirt and blood red lipstick.

"Mycroft," she scolded. "what have we said about grenades at the table?"

"Always pull the pin out first," he repeated glumly.

"That's right," she smiled, setting down a thick slice of chocolate cake in front of him.  She rounded the table to Sherlock's place and they watched proudly as their son pulled the pin and handed the grenade to his sister.  Eurus scowled at him happily before digging into her own breakfast of frogs' legs and balut one-handed.

"Wretched morning, isn't it my darling?" Molly said, laying a hand on the back of his neck, brushing her fingers through the ends of his curls.

"Absolutely dreadful, cara mia," he said, taking her other hand and kissing his way up her arm.

"Sherlock," she sighed happily.

"Sherlock," she said rather less happily.  His eyes flew open and he was momentarily disoriented; the material under his mouth was still black crepe, but why was he—

He sat up, blinking awake.  "What?" he asked, trying to sound more coherent than he felt.

"I said, it's time for dinner, if you're hungry.  Which, apparently you are, since you were saying something in Italian and gnawing on my arm just now.  Had I known you were turning cannibal I wouldn't have bothered with the shopping this week, I would’ve just brought something home from work," she tittered, awkwardly extracting her arm from his grasp.

"So you didn't redecorate your bedroom to look like something from a vampire film?"

"Noo..." she said, looking over her shoulder at him on her way to the kitchen.  "You started telling me about the Pope giving you a tour of the secret ossuary under St. Peter's and then you just passed out on the sofa."

"So you didn't make mince mice on a stick or mummy bread?"

"No?  I made a mummy's head," she said, directing his attention to the platter on the breakfast bar.  It was both creative and rather gruesome.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" he asked impulsively, their dream-children still fresh in his mind.  Every journey begins with a single step.

"Um, we're about to?" she said, scrutinizing him.  "You didn't forget to mention a head injury, did you?"

Bollocks, he thought.  So much for that.  "It's only a slight concussion, I've had worse from walking to a doorframe," he lied.  Smooth, Holmes.

She huffed a breath and rolled her eyes.

There was always next time, he supposed.

(The mummy head is real.  I know what I'll be making for dinner tomorrow night...)

[witchyangels]

Day One: Where We Stand Vigilant

Alistair Appreciation week is upon us!! Aaahhh!!!!  Here’s day one! I had a lot of fun writing Alistair’s interactions with a couple of wardens that never see the light of day. They even get mentioned in my main fanfic (found here if you want to look, also stars my Tabris character that is mentioned in this little ficlet (is that what it’s called? I have no idea))

SFW, mentions character deaths. Be prepared for Alistair tears :’(  Note: Tiberius and Bastian are my own creations <3 

Enjoy! :D 

Alistair looked up at the ruins around him in slight awe. So this was Ostagar? He could feel the darkspawn in the corner of his mind and he wondered once more if he would ever get used to the feeling.

Duncan wasn't due back from retrieving the newest recruit until at least two more weeks. He had heard that the person Duncan was hoping to recruit was an elf from the Alienage in Denerim. Some of the other wardens had started a bet on what the new recruit would be.

A warrior? A rogue? Definitely not a mage, not one outside of the circle.

Jokes had been made that the recruit would be a woman, to finally add some 'femininity' to the male only wardens. Alistair joked a long, saying 'if she's pretty then we'd have men lining up to join the  Wardens of Ferelden.'

A few scoffed, but the ones Alistair found himself closer to, started teasing him.

“Watch out, Alistair's going to make the poor thing swoon so hard that he'll have to carry her to battle!” Bastian stated, making Alistair shake his head.

Tiberius let out a laugh. “Oh no, this woman will be making Alistair be the one to swoon! Bet she'll finally make him a man,” he said as he smirked into his goblet.

Alistair felt himself heat up to the tip of his ears. “I- I--”

The older man slapped his back, making Alistair wince slightly. “If I had known you were into elves I would have taken you to The Pearl in Denerim when we were there last!”

Alistair hastily drank from his own cup. Me and my big mouth... he thought as he tried to calm down and come up with a comeback. “...Could you even afford those women, Tiberius? The way you gamble, you never have even a copper to your name.”

“Oh-hoho! Junior's got you there, Tib,” Bastian said with a laugh.

Tiberius lifted his nose in mock offense. “I won back my money with my last hand--”

“Yeah, only because you cheated that time.”

Tiberius winced. “Keep it down, will ya?”

Alistair let out his own laugh. “What? Afraid Caius will overhear?” he teased as he felt relieved that the attention was no longer on him.

A raven arrived a few days later with a letter from Duncan. When the word spread that the elf recruit was a woman, money exchanged hands.

“Looks like you got your wish, Junior,” Bastian said to Alistair.

“I- I didn't--”

“Just don't get too close to her in the beginning, all right?” Tiberius said, turning serious. “We don't know how she will take to the Joining...”

“I...” Alistair let out a sigh before nodding. “Right, got it... did the letter say her name?”

“At-rena Tabree, or something,” Tiberius said as he tried to recall. “It's an elven name, and I always say those wrong.”

Alistair frowned a little as he thought about it. “...I'll just ask her when I meet her, I suppose.”

“Right, you don't want to get it wrong, elves take great offense to that,” Bastian added.

“When have you been around an elf that wasn't a servant?”

Bastian placed his hand on the taller man's shoulder. “There are still things about my life before the Wardens that even you don't know about, Tib.”

-

Alistair stepped out of the tent, his face still red from the brief moment he had with Atrina. Maker, if we had just moved an inch closer... Quickly he shook his head, trying to drive the thoughts back. She's just really pretty and amazing in battle... that's no reason to be thinking of kissing her all of a sudden.

He didn't linger in front of the tent and headed straight for the soldiers' camp, eager to tell his comrades that the newest recruit survived the Joining. A chuckle left him as he thought about how many of the men would be excited that Atrina made it.

Though, a few of them might get a little too excited. Bastian would flirt the first chance he got and Tiberius would be trying to get her into playing Wicked Grace with him... After the battle I'll warn her about them.

“Yo, Junior, welcome back,” Bastian greeted as he slung an arm over Alistair's shoulder. “Any news? Duncan hasn't sent word.”

Alistair winced slightly at the added weigh. “Well... one survived.”

Bastian's face fell a little. “Maker, watch over their souls...”

Alistair nodded in agreement. “Yes... though, only reason one of them died was because he was refusing to even take the Joining...” His expression turned hard when he thought of Ser Jory. Atrina had been right, he only wanted glory after all... He liked to think he sort of understood the fear of not seeing a wife or child again, but from what he heard, the man had practically begged to join the Wardens.

A scoff left Bastian. “Of all the... Which one? Was it the pickpocket?”

Alistair shook his head. “No, the knight.”

“Shit... should've known...”

Tiberius soon joined them. “So the pickpocket lived then?”

“Actually, he willingly took the Joining, but died quickly.”

Tiberius looked surprised. “Wait... you mean elf girl?”

“Atrina lives, yes,” Alistair answered quickly to say her name.

Bastian's face broke into a grin. “Well then... looks like we have a new sister in the fold. Where is she?” he asked as he looked around while finally taking his arm off of Alistair.

“Duncan called her to a meeting with the king and the teryn, I have no idea why though,” he replied. “But, Maker, you should have seen her out there,” he said, thinking back to when they had been in the Wilds. “She took charge like you wouldn't believe. Put those sods in their place when they gave her issues.”

Tiberius and Bastian exchanged looks before both giving knowing smirks. “Oh really?” Bastian asked. “You sound real impressed with her.”

“Well, yes, I-- why are you looking at me like that?”

Tiberius clapped his hand hard against the younger warden's back. “Seems Junior is smitten!”

Alistair looked dumbstruck. “What? Nono-noo! She's just-- I mean, s-she's going to be a great addition to the Wardens, is all I'm saying!” he said with an uneasy chuckle in his voice.

They didn't look convinced. “At least tell us she's pretty,” Bastian persisted.

Alistair blushed and averted his eyes from them. “Um, well...”

Tiberius let out a laugh. “You really are into elven women!”

Bastian rubbed his chin. “I am more curious to meet her...”

“Oh, no, Bastian, she's Alistair's--”

“She doesn't belong to anyone,” Alistair stated loudly, causing the teasing talks to stop. “Atrina deserves respect, not to be talked about as--”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy, Junior,” Bastian said, holding his hands up in surrender. “We respect her, she's our sister in arms. Surviving the Joining automatically grants her our respect.”

“Then stop talking about her as if she's some... some thing at the market.”

Tiberius looked at him curiously before smiling. “I look forward to meeting her after the battle then,” he said as he clapped his hand down on Alistair's shoulder. “Tell us more about her.”

“Yes, but more of her skills and personality.” Bastian grinned. “Is she a warrior or a rogue?”

Alistair relaxed before he started to talk about Atrina more. Explained how she fought, how she put Jory in his place when he talked ill of having to fight darkspawn. He even told them about how she went out of her way to make sure the man locked up had gotten a last meal.

“Hmm.. compassionate and strong willed,” Bastian rubbed his chin in thought. “It's almost surprising to hear of such a woman having to join the Wardens.”

“She executed the Arl of Denerim's son... that might bring trouble when we get back to Denerim, however.”

“It was either that or abandon the women...” Alistair reminded.

Tiberius nodded. “A lot of us have done worse for less...” he mumbled before looking back at Alistair. “Do you think she'd be up for a round of Wicked Grace?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, I'm sure she will be-- and she will steal every copper from you,” he said with a laugh.

“At least I won't fall for her fluttering lashes like I'm sure you will, Bastian” he said bitterly as Bastian laughed.

“'Tis true! I have a weakness for beautiful women, after all.”

“Um, pardon me, sers.” The three turned to see an elf messenger standing before them. “Are any of you the Grey Warden, Alistair?”

Alistair blinked. “Um, yes, that would be me.”

The elf bowed. “Warden-Commander Duncan asked to see you back at the Grey Warden tent in the  royal encampment.”

The three wardens looked at one another before Bastian held his hand out to Alistair. “We'll see you on the battlefield, Junior.”

Alistair smiled before grasping the older man's arm. “Count on it.”

“May the Maker watch over us all tonight,” Tiberius said as he and Alistair grasped arms next.

Alistair left the encampment with the thought he would be rejoining them for the battle.

-

Alistair stared up at the ceiling of the hut. In his mind he kept playing the events of Ostagar over and over again. Of Morrigan and her mother explaining what happened at Ostagar, and how it all went south. Of how Loghain retreated after the beacon had been lit, leaving Cailan, Duncan, and the rest of the soldiers and Grey Wardens at the mercy of the darkspawn.

Sitting up, he felt his blood boil, before he winced slightly from his fast movements. Morrigan's mother had healed most of his wounds, but she had informed him that the rest needed to heal naturally. It would only take a day or two, she said.

It had just been merely a day but, to Alistair, it felt like he had been sitting in that hut for months. Looking to the bed, he stood from his pallet on the floor next to the frame. He had been the one with the least amount of injuries and, the moment he saw that Atrina was there, he settled himself on the floor next to the bed where she slept.

Even though he had been reassured that she would awaken, Alistair felt petrified by the thought of her never opening her eyes again. Other than himself she was the only warden that survived the attack. If she died, then...

He shook the thoughts from his mind before looking down at Atrina. The blanket was tucked up to her chin, keeping her warm.

He knew what laid under the blanket though. Bandages covered a good portion of her torso from where the darkspawn arrows had hit her. The images of seeing her fall when the darkspawn ambushed them in the tower rushed to the forefront of his mind.

Alistair fought off all that tried to touch her, earning a few wounds himself. The soldier and the Circle mage that had been with them were killed off quickly. Once the darkspawn in the top of the tower had been dealt with, Alistair had collapsed beside Atrina...

Her face being the last he had seen before he let the darkness take him.

A small whimper suddenly reached his ears, bringing him out of his thoughts. Looking down, he saw Atrina's face twist in up in fear as she slept. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alistair smoothed out her hair, unsure of what else to do. He never comforted anyone while they had a bad dream. He could only remember the advice that Duncan, Tiberius, and Bastian had given him after he had his first nightmares.

Alistair closed his eyes as his face twisted at the pain that racked through his heart when he thought of his comrades, his friends...

The only ones who ever looked at him as an equal and not the bastard son of a king.

Now, they were dead...

He wanted to cry, he wanted to grab his sword and slash through Loghain Mac Tir with all he had...

But most of all, he wanted Atrina to live.

The Blight was still happening, he had to remember that, but he couldn't do it alone.

“Please...” he whispered as he looked down at Atrina, to see her looking peaceful once more. “Don't leave me...” He leaned forward and placed his forehead next to the pillow where she rested. Tears stung his eyes as he prayed to the Andraste, to the Maker... to whomever would listen.

Don't let her die... please...

Alistair turned his eyes to Atrina before feeling exhaustion hit once more.

[potter-scamander-black-imgines]

Something I Can’t See Part 01

Newt Scamander X Reader

Request: Nada

Warnings: Despair. Abuse. Taking advantage of. Repression.

(AN: Such a sad story. But hopefully it will be happier later and all will be cleared up.)

"No." You spoke, barely loud enough to be audible as you watched the wizards in front of Newt fire at your brother until he turned into black dust. "Credence...." Then you ran, picking up the skirt of your long torn dress to that direction until you fell to the ground in a fit of hysterical sobbing. "NOO! Oh gosh Credence no.. no...."

This cannot be happening... You thought,Just the other day we were in our room at Mary Lu's.... Handing out fliers... Then he started hanging around that- You made contact with Mt. Graves who gave you a pitiful look, but you continued your sobbing.

"Who is this?" The president questioned, clearly unaware of your looks but aware of lack of attention to anyone but your thoughts.

It was Tina who stepped forward, "This is Y/N Barebone, Credence's or the Obscurus' twin sister. She's been helping Newt and I-"

"So she is probably an Obscurial too?" Madame President questioned, not waiting for Newt nor Tina's reply before she approached you. "It's alright now. No one wants to harm you Ms. Barebone. There there."

You stopped crying as she patted your shoulder, still panting slightly though as you'd ran out of tears to cry so it had seemed while she waiting for you to look back up upon her, "We will not harm you." "You will not harm me?"

"No. Ms. Barebone, we want to help you." This caused a dark chuckle to escape your system as you took her hand and pushed it off.

"You will not harm me... You want to help me.. Well look how much you helped him!" You growled, causing the women to back away in fear, "You want to kill me, just say it Madame President.."

"Y/N we-"

"Confess it!" You hollered, easing yourself through the form of another laugh, "Obscurials can only destroy, is that it huh?!" You looked up, eyes stained with tears and your face had gone blanch, eyes still glossy with tears but still to spoke as if steam was coming out of your ears, "You have no saving grace for me, I'm damned. Just like my brother. There's nothing you can do. And you know what... Maybe I'd rather die on my own terms than by the kinds of you."

Hearing you say this, Newt switched from guilt to panic, knowing what was going through your head. He called out your name, hoping to distract you from speech but to no avail. He ran to Tina to get a plan.

"Y/N... Come with me... I can help."The man... Mr. Graves approached, ignoring your threatening stare, "They will harm you. You saw what they did to Credence..."

You looked at him, almost breaking, "Credence..."

"Yes..." He took the girl in his arms, hugging her tightly against him as she whimpered. "I know child. I know..."

"How can I trust you?" You cowered, tears staining your cheeks as you shook with rage, but Graves persisted.

"He was a friend." He sighed, "Your brother... I only wanted to help him and now... Oh Merlin." "What do we do?"

Seeing you distracted, Tina moved in, "We have to stop her."

Newt replied to Tina, "This will kill her."

"Then you have the best chance to save her."

"I was always the nicer one. The stronger one. I never turned, no matter how many lashings mother dealt me. Do you know how hard that is?" You whine as he took you into his arms once more, believing his fake tears, "Always smiling when the earth shatters around you... I wanted to help him but..."

"Y/N..." Newt called, he was barely behind you. You could feel his breath on your neck, "This isn't you love."

You growled darkly, only looking at him for a moment, "Ha. And what do you know of me? Truly. Stand aside Newt." You stressed cruelly, "I have no intentions of harming you."

"Y/N.." he persisted but all it did was set you off as you pushed him into Tina's arms with a single flick of your wrist. Soon enough spells were being casted at you but you caught them all, forming a protective barrier around yourself and Graves. You smiled darkly, pushing all the spells fired back to their owners, causing the majority to pass out. Lights flickered above you as you waved your hand.

"If I would've known that magic felt this good I never would have suppressed it." You chuckled, "I would have snapped Mary Lou's neck long ago."

"It is done, sweet girl." He sighed, rubbing your hair, " Now we must go."

"This isn't you." Tina called out, "Is this what your brother would have wanted? You going dark?"

In a flash you were in front of Tina. Your once Y/E/C eyes were a beady black as your hands trembled and blood flowed down your nose.

"Credence..... Credence!"

Wiping his hand above your head, you collapsed completely into Perceval's arms, him carrying you towards the exit, while Newt and Tina panicked.

"Credence is dead. And he'd want her to be happy. She'll be happy Ms. Goldstein, with me." Newt gaped at your as you were being pulled away from him. "She told you Newton." Graves looked at him once, throwing your arms around his shoulders, "Stand aside. This is not your war. And I don't want to harm you."

(A year Later)

"And you believe she's in Scotland?" Tina asked, "Not dead?"

Newt sighed, bringing the phone closer to his ear, "She had so much control, besides dark magic would be a better preservative to keep her body alive."

"Are you sure she's even reachable Newt? Grief changes people..." Tina stressed on the line, "Besides she's not exactly herself and you know how your last abstraction attempt left."

True... Newt thought, but try as he might he couldn't crush his hope, "Tina Credence saw her." Newt settled for instead, "She's joined some sort of club with dark witches . She's learning dark magic which strengthens the Obscurius' grip on her. They want to use her as a hit man. We cannot allow that..."

"Newt I know you love her but-"

"I can't allow that-" He replied, mostly to Tina but also to himself. He was so relieved but also so panicked.

This is what happened to Leta... he didn't want this to you. Hearing Tina sigh on the other line and telling him that she'd see him down there, he aparated immediately back to the small building that he and Credence and had shared as a meeting spot before entering the case for the night. He'd found Credence before he'd even left New York and instantly took him in without question. He knew though closer to Tina, he would want to get out and the two didn't wish to trouble her or her sister. So the two traveled in the suitcase around looking for their dear Y/N but didn't notice her until this year, a year after she went missing. And now they'd finally found her.

"Credence." He sighed, stepping into the case as the boy looked up from the blue creature in his hand, "How did she look? Well? Is she in danger? Is-"

"I... I don't know..." The boy confessed, putting the snake like creature in its nest before going to his friend and teacher. "It was such a brief glance... she was being ushered away... she looks... different. But it's defiantly her..."

Newt smiled at him, joy filling his bones. "Where?"

"Heading to.. To... To a bakery with some girl.... Pale... Black hair..." It couldn't be, could it? "But she... she was so pale, sickly looking, and that girl brought up Graves... Or Gellet, so you.. you say he actually is..."

"She will be okay." He smiled gently at Credence, “She has to be

Panting and screaming as you sat up in your bed, you began to cry, your head searing with pain from both the nightmare and your arm being ripped apart. Clouds of smoke from the panic clouding your vision. Graves was quick to come into your room, wand and water bowl in hand. Slowly, he lifted your sleeves, examining the cuts before he began to heal them. "Calm down now Y/N... Nothing is going to harm you."

"I'm so sorry Mr. Graves." You sobbed, as if still scared you'd get a beating, though you hadn't received one in a year, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"My sweet child I wanted you to, remember me telling you so? Now lie down." Obeying, Graves took your hands, squeezing them tightly, "Tell me now, what was it about tonight?"

You shook your head, "It's always the same one.. The death. The destruction. Suffering-"

"But something must have been different... Your cuts were deeper..." He stopped, seeing your panic and corrected himself, "I apologize for seeming rash. I merely wanted to help."

You nodded," I know.. I'm sorry Mr. Graves.. I didn't mean to upset you. In my dream... There was a muggle, the Goldstein sisters, my brother, and that man..."

"Scamander?" Graves questioned, knowing your minds strange infatuation with the man, "Child don't you remember what he did to you and your brother?"

You nodded slightly, saddened by the memory, "I know it just.... it doesn't make sense. Why would he and his friends help me only to stab me in the back later?" Graves sighed, shifting in the bed, rubbing the knuckles on the girls hands before bringing it up to his lips as he thought.

"Perhaps.... Perhaps it is time..."

"Mr. Graves?" You panicked, pulling your hands away as your breath picked up. "Mr. Graves you are scaring me."

"Hush now." He came towards her slowly, "You know I won't harm you... But I have this friend... A friend who can help you..."

Shaking your head as you panicked ,"Have I not been performing well enough? I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'll work harder I'll do better I'll-"

"Hey.. hey! Hey now.."He quieted you, wrapping his arms around you as you shook in panic, "It's time... Sweet child... It's time you meet your guardian."

"Please Mr. Graves..." The girl sobbed, "He is a distant uncle whom I've never met. He doesn't know me like you do, or Leta or- Please..."

He hummed slightly. "Child... you are ready. I have made ready. Now, sleep. Leta will escort you in the morning." Seeing as this didn't console her, he hugged her, kissing her head. "It's going to be alright. It's all going to be okay."

Where am I? You thought, This isn't Gellet's home?

“Y/N, are you awake?” You blinked, trying to adjust your vision, “You are safe, Y/N.”

That voice... No... It can’t be...

“It is me, Mr. Scamander.”

Panic filled my body and I tried to pretend to be asleep again, though knowing it was to late. “Go away.”

“Y/N..” Another voice called, causing her to break, “Y/N it-it’s all-”

“Credence?”

[thesoffgengar]

Stars are Holes in the Cloak of Night

I wrote this for a writing class and it’s just been sitting in my files ever since. I didn’t have the heart to delete it.

word count: 3k

The town of Santa Teresa was carved into the side of a gentle stone giant, laid far into the concave that it crooked over the sea. House after house covered every inch of even the just-barely steep slopes, colorful choirs of open doors singing the lives of the people that lived in them. The town thrived on its fish and pearls, and the golden dust around the foot of the giant that foreigners love to lay on, bare under the sun.

The people of Santa Teresa were as charming as their town; if you were stuck, hungry, and cold, you’d be lucky if you were found in Santa Teresa. You would be fed, warmed, and sent on your merry way in borrowed clothes and enough fare to take you home. That is, as long as you didn’t disrupt their peace. They loved their quiet mornings and quiet evenings — they had enough ruckus from the unforgiving weather. That, and the girl named Milagros, dubbed Santa Teresa’s local cryptid.

Milagros wasn’t some sort of hurricane or charm of bad luck like her title suggests. Quite the opposite, really; she was a delight to the elderly and smiled at anyone she crossed paths with like she would never run out of them. But she asked questions that spun heads and loved rain because it cries with you. She made hats from tin foil and hair ornaments from fishbones, and a cape was perpetually wrapped around her shoulders. She started calling for aliens from the roof of her house and soon, she called herself one, too.

There was only one other person in town that could rival the fame of the cryptid of Santa Teresa, and that was her minder, the girl Ynes. Ynes was twelve when she first met the local cryptid. She was, by all standards of Santa Teresa, the opposite of Milagros. She spoke when spoken to, wore her hair in neat twintails, and didn’t run barefoot. So, of course, it comes as a shock that she, of all people, would agree to the bidding of a tiny girl calling herself a lost alien and demanded a ship to come home.

“Do you see those stars?” Asked Milagros, pointing upwards, standing on her tippytoes to indicate that it was something way, way up above her head. She was five, and her straight hair clumped and curled and stuck in odd angles, with a pristine white fish skeleton that swept it all out of her face like a comb. The sky was an ombré watercolor of yellow and violet with barely any stars in sight.

“Yes, I do.” Ynes solemnly answered. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“They’re…a noo-we-sans.” Said the tiny girl.

Ynes was taken aback at her reply. “Do you mean nuisance?”

She nods vigorously.

“What do you mean the stars are a nuisance?” She hadn’t quite heard that from someone before. Stars were objects of beauty, of hope, and poetic, pretty prose.

“They’re holes!” Milagros throws her hands up with her declaration. “They’re holes in the sky! Who would do this?”

“I don’t think they’re quite holes…” Ynes muttered. “Maybe punctures? Pinpricks? They aren’t so bad…”

“They’re going to get bigger, silly.” Said Milagros. “They’re going to form bigger cracks, and the sky’s going to fall on itself. Or maybe they’re already really big, and they’re just far away! But I guess they’re good for me…”

“For you? Why is that?”

“Because. I can get out through those holes, and come home.”

“Where is…home?”

“Home is out there.” Said Milagros. “Everyone says I’m so strange, so I might not belong here, right? Maybe it’s because this isn’t my home.”

Milagros starts coming over to play, and other times, it’s Ynes who comes over to play, under the guise of babysitting. She meets Tita Carlotta, who’s overjoyed that there’s someone to look after her eccentric, lackadaisical daughter, and it doesn’t escape Ynes’ notice that she says “look after” rather than “be friends with”.

Her own mother is pleased that she’s made a friend she likes enough to invite and go to, and that in the process she’s also learning how to take care of someone much younger than her. Her brother, however, is not at all happy with the arrival of the cryptid in their lives. He wasn’t before, and he still isn’t now.

“Ate, why do you have to hang around that girl?” Her brother asks, hiding the annoyance in his voice.

“Manuel, we’ve been over this.” Said Ynes.

“That doesn’t save me from potential social execution because people are associating me with her. Her classmates give me the homework she’s missed. Me! We’re not even in the same damn grade.”

“So what?”

“So what? Ate, didn’t you hear a word I just said?”

“And? You give still give her the homework regardless, right? What’s the point?”

“The point is that they’re not giving it to her themselves because Milagros Llaban is a nutter! And they’re handing it to me because they think we’re, we’re close or something!”

“So? Just tell them you don’t want to give it to her and they should just find someone else to do it, or just do it themselves. Stop complicating everything for yourself.”

“Ugh, why can’t I have a normal sister?! You were fine, too, until you started hanging around her.” He huffs, leaning back into his chair. “Why do you even like her so much? It’s been nine years and I still don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry. No one else in town does, too.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Know why you like her so much.”

“Because,” she says without missing a beat. “Stars are holes in the sky.”

Manuel rolls his eyes and goes back to his homework. “…I’m starting to think she might not be the only crazy in this town, ate.”

Ynes is 21, and Santa Teresa’s local cryptid takes the form of a small, fourteen-year-old girl. Too old, said most of Santa Teresa, to have sitters and wear capes and for making fishbone tiaras, and gluing sparkly streamers to the back of bicycles that fluttered when you rode them.

Old enough for university, for love, and seeing the world, thinks Ynes, eyeing her name on the long list she viewed on the family computer. Her name being on there meant she passed. It meant guaranteed future, success, and better life.

But it also meant leaving. Leaving Santa Teresa, its peace, and the wild weather. Letting go of the golden sand, the wind, and the kind people. It meant leaving behind her life with the cryptid of Santa Teresa, and nine years of trying to reach the stars. She’d always known it wasn’t possible, but she still spent her youth on plastic bottle rockets and bedazzled bicycles, and playing space cadet with cardboard boxes.

She can’t just leave without a word, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

“Mila, I’m going away for a while.” Ynes rushes through her sentence to get it over with. Just rip off the band-aid, that was her way.

“…you’re leaving?”

“Not forever!” She quickly amends that probably wasn’t the best way to phrase it. “I’m going to university, in Manila.”

“But still.” Milagros looks at her, eyes the size of dinner plates. “Leaving?”

“Mila, I know it’s hard for you to let me leave. It’s hard for me to leave you too — ”

“Then why even leave?!” She bursts. Ynes reels back from the suddenness of the change; Milagros seemed so calm only seconds ago.

“I’m 21, Mila.” Ynes tries to reason with her.  "A hundred years ago, I’d be too old to, to be without a job or a family, and now I’m too old for, for games and blanket forts — “

"And me.” Milagros points an angry finger at herself. “It’s me, is that it?”

“…you’re too old for me to take care of you. You’re too old for…for you.” Ynes sighs. “Mila, you’re fourteen now. The world is big, and there’s so much to see — ”

“The planet Earth is big, but out there is bigger!” She points upward at the sky, at the high hanging sun. “I want to see that!”

“There’s nothing out there but, but darkness and stars that’ll kill you if you get too close!” Ynes shot back. “You can’t live out there!”

“I can’t live down here, either! There’s nothing for me down here!”

“Yes, there is, and if you just take a moment to stop with your stupid little play pretend and look around you, you would realize that!” Ynes screamed. She felt drained, like she had pulled out a thorn in herself and her soul was gushing out endlessly with nothing to cap it. “There’s nothing I can do about this anymore, Mila. This is your choice now. And I’m leaving, whether you like it or not.”

“You can’t leave me!” Milagros cried. “You can’t leave me, you’re mine!”

Those are the last words Ynes hears before she shuts their front door behind her. She didn’t mean for it to escalate like this. She knew that there was a possibility, but she hadn’t counted on it and just hoped for the best.

Clearly hope wasn’t enough.

So on that night, she apologizes and says goodbye properly in the only way she knows that would be proper for someone like Milagros. The caped girl was still silent with seething rage when Ynes came to her house in the dead of dark to pick her up for her little stunt, but she still complied with Ynes’ request to come with her without much resistance.

“Are you ready?” Asks Ynes. She shifts the gears of her brother’s bike, though she’s not really sure what that does. He’s about sixteen now, so maybe he’s past getting mad about things like this. (But they’re both well past the age of stealing from your siblings, so she really shouldn’t be talking.)

They gaze at the road before them, narrowing down into a strip of black stone as their eyes follow it downhill. At the very end, the street cleanly splits into opposite directions, outlining the cliff overlooking the sea. The wind is biting tonight, so much so that even her own skin went frigid from it, though Ynes can’t remember a day in Santa Teresa when the weather was sweet-tempered, whether it be rain, shine, day, or night. In the distance were twin half moons, the one below more a warbled image than her sister above.

“Yes.” Milagros says, with all the wise conviction of a child who knew nothing of physics.

Ynes kicks off the ground, pushing the bicycle down. Her is hair swept out of her face by the wind, the pedals turning too fast for her legs to keep up. Milagros’ cape flutters behind them like a dragon’s tail.

All the logic in Ynes’ head screams at her to pull the brakes, but she knows she can’t. It will probably snap if she tries, and they’re going fast enough that maybe, maybe they’ll actually make it to space this time and she can’t stop now, she doesn’t want to stop. Nothing can make her stop, not the logic, not the drop ahead that they were fast approaching, not the bells ringing in her ears —

But. Those weren’t bells. That was Milagros, laughing her mad scientist cackle with enough courage for both of them, but still gripping on to the back of Ynes’ shirt for dear life. Her voice rang loud and true and Ynes was sure it would wake up the entire neighborhood, though she couldn’t find a care and instead just joined her friend in her rambunctious disruption of the evening silence.

In the next instant, the front of the bicycle hits the metal fence that borders the side of the road. The force propels the bicycle forward, the metal glinting in the moonlight, and it sends the two of them flying. Ynes feels like she’s actually suspended in the air for a few seconds. She’s in the air and she’s floating, she’s really floating, she’s —

   — she’s falling, she’s falling shesfalling —

SPLASH!

   — headfirst into the black watery abyss.

Ynes chokes from the sudden loss of oxygen, her nose and throat on fire. Her limbs ache and her skin stings from the impact. She swims up and up, and when she reaches the surface she gulps down as much oxygen as she can.

A weight attached to her arm. It’s Milagros, her hair a wet curtain around her head, her cape pooling around her shoulders. They float, the silence thick, but they don’t ruin it with words, opting to bathe in the milk light of moon and stars, slicing through the night sky.

Her brother’s bike has probably sunk to the bottom, forever lost in time, and before her mind drifts with the rest of herself, Ynes makes an idle promise to pay for a new one.

After a while, they swim to the shallower parts, wordlessly dragging themselves out of the water. Milagros lagged behind Ynes as they walk to shore soaked to the bone. There was Tita Carlotta, in all her stiff elegance, her hands crossed over her chest and feet firmly planted in the sand. Her own mother was waiting, too, but she looked exhausted rather than Tita Carlotta’s clear fury. Manuel stood awkwardly next to her, with two towels in his arms.

“M-Manuel,” she stuttered through her chattering teeth, making her way to them. “I-I’m sorry I s-sank your bike, I-I’ll ge-get-get you a new one…”

He wraps a towel around her shoulders. She didn’t notice how tall he’d grown since last year.  Since when was he so grown up? “Ate, I think that’s the least of your problems. You’re limping.” He said. “I don’t think your foot should be twisted like that. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline pumping in her system, or the numbing cold of falling into the night ocean, that she can’t feel anything. Manuel shortly jogs over to Tita Carlotta and Milagros, quietly handing the other towel to the girl who opted to wrap herself in her wet cape. Tita Carlotta thanks him, and Milagros awkwardly nods, which her returns with equal stiffness.

“N-nanay,” says Ynes. “I’m — ” Before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off, familiar comforting eyes meeting hers.

“Don’t apologize.” She smiles tiredly. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Easing into the security of the towel wrapped around herself, and her mother’s arm around her waist, she lets herself be carried out of the beach, but not without looking back once at Milagros, shaking under her mother’s chastising, shielding her eyes with the her wet hair, swamped in her covering.

That was the last time Ynes saw her, before two and a half weeks.

She was confined to her own bedroom, her arm in a sling and her leg in a cast. Her brother tired his best to entertain her, visiting her often and bringing his friends over for her to meet, and while that was certainly not boring, it didn’t keep her from memorizing where her bed was, where her window faced, and every pin on every poster on the wall before her, even more maddening was the fact that this was the room she grew up in.

It wasn’t until Tuesday, when her door opened for another guest. She expected it to be her brother and one of his school friends, or her mother with food or biscuits to snack on, or even just maybe, a visiting relative to see her condition. That was even more likely than who she saw today.

Tita Carlotta was dressed in one of her maxi dresses, shaking her hair out of her wide brimmed hat. She probably came alone, Ynes thought, until stepping in the room, behind Tita Carlotta, was a girl she almost didn’t recognize.

Milagros — was it even her? — was dressed in what looked like a Sunday dress, and now that she thought about it, Ynes had never seen her in church. She probably never went. Her hair was cropped short and comb neatly, without a fishbone or a bit of tin foil. But what was most alarming was that around her shoulders, her bright, billowing cape was absent.

“Ynes,” Tita Carlotta smiled, taking the first seat by the bed. “How are you, anak?”

“Getting better po.” She replied politely.

“That’s good.”

They exchanged smalltalk, about her condition and the news and whether she was excited about college. Milagros hadn’t said a word throughout the entire exchange, until Tita Carlotta had to coax her out of her silence.

“Ynes, Milagros has something she’d like to say to you…” Tita Carlotta’s eyes move to Milagros expectantly. She refuses to back down, but after a few seconds, she gives in.

“I’m sorry po, Ate.” Milagros says, politeness laced with bitter venom. “I hope you can find it in your cold, dead heart to forgive me.”

“Milagros!” Her mother yells, indignant.

“I’m hungry.” She said bluntly, getting up from the chair. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

“Milagros, apologize properly!”

Milagros pauses when she reaches the door, her hand on the knob shakily. “Congratulations po,” she spat. “For getting into university. You should be very proud.”

She vanishes through the door without a trace, the click of the door the only proof she had been there at all.

“I’m sorry, Ynes.” Said Tita Carlotta. “I don’t know why she’s being like this. I thought the change was for the better when she threw that cape away…”

“Okay lang po, tita,” said Ynes, staring at her door like she was trying to open it with her mind, trying to will Milagros back into the room. “Naiintindihan ko naman.”

On June 22nd, she packs up her entire room and prepares to leave Santa Teresa, moving to Manila two months before school to get a feel of living there. The entire town is there to wish her luck and bid her well in her journey. She gets kisses and hugs, most from her mother, and a tiny houseplant from Manuel. Tita Carlotta presents Ynes with her old laptop, so she can keep talking to everyone on the family computer. Ynes tells her that she can’t possibly accept, but Tita insists.

It’s time for her to get on the bus, but she keeps her feet firmly planted on the ground for a few seconds, for as long as she can get away with, silently hoping that the person she wanted to see the most would show, despite how bitter their last meeting had been.

She never does.

Ynes finally drags herself and her bags into the bus, each step heavier than the last. She waves out the window one last time, for Santa Teresa, and she keeps waving for the people chasing the bus until they can’t catch up anymore. They’re gone now, and she stops waving. She leans back in her seat and tries to relax for the journey ahead, trying to pay no mind to the sting getting worse in her chest.