#he is assuring himself that when he dies none of it will matter. he won't feel ugly or lonely or bored or stupid

[deadpanwalking]

A Cooking Egg by T.S. Eliot

    En l'an trentiesme de mon aage     Que toutes mes hontes j'ay beues

Pipit sate upright in her chair Some distance from where I was sitting; Views of the Oxford Colleges Lay on the table, with the knitting.

Daguerreotypes and silhouettes, Her grandfather and great great aunts, Supported on the mantelpiece An Invitation to the Dance.

. . . . .

I shall not want Honour in Heaven For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney And have talk with Coriolanus And other heroes of that kidney.

I shall not want Capital in Heaven For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond: We two shall lie together, lapt In a five per cent Exchequer Bond.

I shall not want Society in Heaven, Lucretia Borgia shall be my Bride; Her anecdotes will be more amusing Than Pipit's experience could provide.

I shall not want Pipit in Heaven: Madame Blavatsky will instruct me In the Seven Sacred Trances; Piccarda de Donati will conduct me …

. . . . .

But where is the penny world I bought To eat with Pipit behind the screen? The red-eyed scavengers are creeping From Kentish Town and Golder's Green;

Where are the eagles and the trumpets?

Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps. Over buttered scones and crumpets Weeping, weeping multitudes Droop in a hundred A.B.C.'s.

[inlovewithregencyera]

transcript under cut : )

Paelford House

July 8th, 1818

*Aurelia sniffling and starts softly crying*

*Aurelia starts violently sobbing*

July 8th, 1808

Auglire Castle

Robert: Sugarplum?

Robert: Sugarplum, where are you?

Robert: And why is it so damn dark in here?

Robert: Sugar?

Robert: Aurelia, please come out. It's your birthday and I have a surprise since nobody else in this damn castle seems to care.

Robert: Aurelia..?

*Aurelia sniffles*

Robert: There you are my dear. Whatever is the matter?

Aurelia: Leave me be Uncle Bertie. I wish to be alone today.

Robert: No, no I won't do that. It's your birthday and your foolish da-forgive me, your foolish parents can't seem to remember. Your mother is still in her bed and not dressed and your fool of a father has been off riding since the crack of dawn, which is never good, he always does that when something is troubling him.

Aurelia: He's been going off riding for long periods every morning since....you know.

Robert: Yes, I know how he reacts to death but he has other children to attend to as well. Mama says he's worse than when our Father died. Had I known it was this bad here I wouldn't have been in the city so long...

Aurelia: *wiping eyes* Well, if you should know, I asked that for my birthday nobody did anything or mentioned it, so it's not their fault. All I asked for was to be alone.

Robert: Well, I'm not respecting that wish. You don't need to be alone, especially on your birthday. None of them have any sense to realize that.

Aurelia: *sniffles* But I WANT to be alone. No birthday will ever be the same again without her. I hate my birthday.

Robert: Well I love your birthday and would like to celebrate it with you and that's why I've came all the way from Winshire. Since those fools haven't prepared you a cake, you and I will go to the sweet shop and get sorbet.

Aurelia: Why should I enjoy any sweets if she never will again? It's my fault, I-

Robert: No, sugar, quit saying that. If you'd like to blame anyone then let it be me, I can bear it. I can't bear you thinking it's your fault though.

Aurelia: But it is…

Robert: *sitting down* No, no its n-*back cracks* NOT!

Aurelia: *softly giggling*

Robert: I'm glad my pain amuses you. If I could break every bone in my body a million times just for you to be happy, I would.

Aurelia: You don't mean that.

Robert: I mean it with my whole heart.

I love you, and I do hate seeing you sad. I too, know how it feels to lose a sister, you know?

Aurelia: *sniffles* Yes, yes I know.

Granny doesn't speak about her that much, neither does Papa.

Robert: They do that because it's easier for them. It's been nearly forty years, and I assure you not a day goes by where they don't think of her. I think of her everyday, and was only eight when she passed.

Aurelia: *softly* What was she like?

Robert: *smiling* Georgiana was a lot like you, believe it or not. She was kind, compassionate, and a little shy. But she didn't really prefer naturally feminine hobbies such as embroidery, cross stitching, or anything to deal with music and that upset our Mama a lot. My Father adored her, because she shared his interests. Before bed, she would often scare your Papa and I with silly ghost stories and don't tell him I told you this, but he once got so scared he wet himself in his nightgown.

Aurelia: *hysterically laughing* Really?

Robert: Yes sugarplum, really. He was around your age when this happened.

Aurelia: *sitting on lap* Uncle Bertie?

Robert: Yes sugarplum?

Aurelia: Does it get any better?

Robert: What do you mean?

Aurelia: Will I ever stop feeling so…sad?

Robert: The pain won't go away, but in time, you'll learn how to manage it better. You won't feel so sad everyday when you're older, it'll just be some days.

Aurelia: But will I ever feel happy again?

Robert: Of course you will sugarplum! You will have many happy memories in your lifetime, trust me. The happy ones outweigh the bad ones, I know it's hard right now, but I promise you eventually it'll get better, *kisses cheek* alright?

Aurelia: Alright. Can we still maybe get sorbet..?

Robert: We will go right now. *picking up* I'll even buy you a whole cake for yourself, how does that sound?

Aurelia: *gasp* Really? But what will Papa say?

Robert: He won't know. Perhaps we will buy him one too, he might need it.

Aurelia: I think Papa needs more than a cake!

Robert: At this rate...I think he does too. We will worry about him tomorrow though, today is your birthday, not his.

Bridget: Aurelia…?

Bridget: *grabbing face* Aurelia.?

Aurelia: *pushing away* Why are you in here..?

Bridget: I couldn't sleep well, my room is too hot. Yours is always cooler...

Aurelia: *sniffling* You always say this when you want to sleep with me.

Bridget: Well, perhaps I do, but I can't because you're upset! What's wrong?

Aurelia: Why does everyone have to die?

Bridget: Is this about Harriet?

Aurelia: Uncle Bertie.

Bridget: Oh, I miss him too Aurelia. What made you think of him today?

Aurelia: I remembered how he took me for sorbet on my birthday ten years ago.

Bridget: Aurelia, it's alright. *caressing cheek* You know he wouldn't want you to be like this, you can't say he would.

Aurelia: No, *wiping eyes* no he wouldn't.

Bridget: It'll be alright Aurelia. Tonight will be the best birthday of your life and I'll make sure of it!

Aurelia: *sniffles* Oh please don't say this will be the best one. I'm already sad today, I would like to at least hope for one birthday in the future where I wake up happy and not cry.

Bridget: Fine. It will be ONE of the best birthdays of your life. *grinning* Is that better?

Aurelia: A little.

Bridget: You shall dance with your future husband, and all is well!

Aurelia: *smirking* I do hope you’re right.

Bridget: When am I not?

Aurelia: Well..

Bridget: *giggling* No do not answer that.

Now, let us both go back to sleep!

Aurelia: I suppose you mean not to sleep in your own bed?

Bridget: Yes! *climbing in bed* It's too much trouble to walk back.

[whumpsday]

a couple people* want a happy conclusion for Abel, the tortured zombie from my new Breath of Life oneshot. i'm not sure i'll write a conclusion to this one, but i know the feeling of desperately wanting a happy end for a whumpee, and don't wanna leave you hanging!

so here are several endings i can imagine for him! none of these are necessarily more canon than the other (unless i decide to write a sequel one day which i'm not sure about), but they're all within the realm of realism for this canon. whichever one you pick can be canon for you :)

❤️‍🩹 Ending A: Abel falls into the hands of another necromancer capable of maintaining his body. Perhaps Soe sells him, or perhaps he's stolen, or perhaps he even escapes and manages to find one before he decays. This necromancer is a caretaker who opens up his airway and assures him it'll stay open and everything will be alright, gently caring for him and helping him as he recovers. They become true friends. (This is the "happy end", all of the following are bittersweet.)

🧙 Ending B: As in Ending A, Abel falls into the hands of another necromancer. However, this necromancer is a carewhumper. They don't restrict his breathing, allowing him to exist in peace, but don't quite treat him like a person. Unlife is at least far more bearable now that he can breathe. He's treated as a servant for the most part.

⛓️ Ending C: Soe eventually relents and allows Abel air by default when she decides he's ready to behave, only taking away his ability to breathe as a temporary punishment. It's a punishment Abel never earns, as he's on his best behavior. He may not be free, but he's far more comfortable, and he's generally unharmed. Similar to Ending B, but he's far more afraid of Soe.

🪦 Ending D: (CW: Suicide) Abel starts paying attention to Soe's necromancy, despite the difficulty when nearly all his attention is devoted to his desperate need for air. Eventually, he picks up enough that he's able to concoct a spell of his own while Soe is away, one that releases his unnatural pull to life. He runs far away and digs himself a new grave, hoping Soe won't find him and bring him back, then performs the spell and returns to death. He's left to rest peacefully: even if Soe finds him, she decides he was clever enough to escape her.

🪄 Ending E: As in Ending D, Abel manages to teach himself a small bit of necromancy, but of a different sort: he learns the fleshcraft that allows Soe to open and close his airway, managing to open it on his own. It's not perfect, but he can breathe, and that's what matters. He still spends a good chunk of time airless, as he has to keep up appearances when he's around Soe and won't risk her noticing, but it's no longer all the time.

💀 Ending F: (CW: Major Character Death) Abel finds a way to murder Soe one day, likely through either poison or, fittingly, choking her as she sleeps. When a necromancer dies, those they have raised follow, and his unlife ends as well. Abel's suffering is over, knowing that no one else will have to endure what he has under Soe's cruel reign.

*tagging the couple people mentioned: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @fleur-a-whump @whump-in-a-million

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt ~

Chapter 3: consent (part 1)

(Ftm trans Bright eyes - he/him pronouns)

Let it never be said that Samuel was proud of the way he had treated Bright when he was first turned.

He was harsh, however at the time it seemed appropriate considering Bright had essentially led Sam's progeny to his death.

Because of that, Sam had placed all the blame onto Bright since the beginning of his turning.

That combined with Bright eye's already existing young-adult-angst, newborn vampire emotions and a newfound hunger.....let's just say they didn't exactly mix well.

However it wouldn't be fair to leave out the struggling situation Sam had found himself in at the time.

He had a thousand excuses but none of them got him any sympathy from Bright. But its not as if Sam was looking for it.

He only began to regret his treatment towards Bright after meeting his darlin, Tanker.

Meeting Tank gave Sam a chance to better understand Bright.

Maybe it was wrong to say, but they had so much in common. And the way Tank talked about how they acted in their adolescents, it made sense that they got along with Bright so well.

Admittedly, introducing the two was a way to get Bright off his hands but funly enough, Bright having somone he could talk to that he knew wouldn't judge him was actually decreasing the amount of arguing Sam and Bright did.

So, when Sam got a call from William requesting a meeting, he wasn't anticipating it being about Bright eyes.

He assumed it would be something to do with Porter coming back or the upcoming summit, maybe Sam would be lucky enough to find out why he wouldn't be attending.

So you can imagine his surprise when William revealed that the meeting was about his troubled grand progeny.

His instant reaction was getting very quiet and eventually saying in a cold and serious tone

"What did he do?"

But William was quick to jump to his defence

"He didn't do anything Samuel, you have nothing to fear"

He said this but after a moment, William looked...unsure

Maybe it was a good idea not to mention the whole, broke one of my walls and burst into my office situation, thought William.

"With all do respect your highness, I don't believe you"

"I assure you, nore him or yourself are in any form of trouble"

Sam paused for a moment

"Then what is this meeting about?"

William sighed, Sam prepared himself for what was to come but no matter what, he would have never anticipated this.

"It is no secret that you two don't get along very well and with all due respect, it's gotten out of hand. I'm aware that your arguing has died down and you know that I am very sympathetic towards you, but tell me, how is Bright doing in terms of his vampire training in comparison to Fred?"

Sam felt embarrassed. He didn't want to seem immature for his treatment of Bright or that he was being petty in any way but he had to answer honestly.

"He's far behind Fred....but that's probably just cos he was turned by someone who was turned 2 seconds before him"

Despite his excuses, William looked like he had heard enough.

"Between your arguing and Brights inability to use and understand his powers, I'm sorry but I don't see you being his mentor going anywhere

It's unfair that your realationship has, though I'm sure unintentionally, stifled his learning"

Sam was defeated. William had made up his mind. And he had nothing to say about it.

Because he was right.

........

"So what do you propose we do?"

"Well~, I've been pondering this idea for a while now and I've ran it by Vincent and asked for the opinion of Bright eyes himself on the matter and~"

William reminded himself not to look so happy and to restrain his excitement.

"I would like to ask for your consent to take Bright eyes on as MY progeny".

Sam was dumbfounded to say the least. There was a part of him that was expecting that but it was such a small part that he didn't expect it to be correct.

After a long pause, Sam began.

"What did Bright say to that?"

William explained that after telling Vincent, he then went to tell Lovely and Bright overheard them.

Sam assumed the worst, Bright bursting in and screaming at William and just genuinely being a brat.

He was prepared to start apologising for whatever Bright did on his behalf but then William went on to say that after he had explained that it was up to him, he calmed down and they had a quote 'delightful' conversion.

Sam couldn't possibly fathom the consept of Bright being 'delightful' but he listened on.

"So he said he'd 'think about it'?"

"Yes"

It was better this way, he knew that, but somehow, for some reason, it still hurt.

He had failed one of his progenys.

"You can have him"

He was about to leave but then somthing came to his attention.

"But before that I have one question...

Why? Why go through all this trouble? Why NOW?"

Sam mentioned to Tank before this meeting that William wasn't one to do things just to be nice but he couldn't think of any other reason why William would want to take in a punk like Bright eyes.

The real reason was simply because......he couldn't help himself.

Every time he has had a new progeny it's been the same.

He couldn't help himself with Alexis and she was a.....disappointment to put it harshly.

So he said "no more. Never again"

Then he saw Vincent and he COULD. NOT. HELP. HIMSELF.

So he said "one last one"

Porter was a different story all together.

And now there was Bright eyes.

He had accepted by now that when he sees a troubled vampire youth he simply cannot help himself.

But he wasn't about to tell Sam that.

"Well....you know the summit is coming up-"

"Ah right of course-"

"Let me finish"

William knew what Sam thought about the summit. That it was just a huge pissing contest and an excuse for vampires to show off to each other.

While he did have a point, it meant more than that to him.

"I simply meant that it would be most convenient to make this kind of decision at this time because if he says yes then its just easier to make arrangements for his coronation. As you know I won't be attending this year so I'll have yo make arrangements for what to do regarding that"

That did technically answer the question of "why NOW" but Sam wasn't convinced.

I guess we won't know until he decides, thought Sam as he got up from his chair and left.

Bright wasn't his problem anymore....so why did he feel so...

Disappointed in himself?

Tagg - @darlin-collins

[that-angry-noldo]

"Halt!"

Rog bared his teeth, his hand instinctively reaching to his sword. He felt his companions shifting behind him, their eyes piercing through the opposing elves.

Their opponents were better armed and in... healthier condition. Rog noticed few archers in the trees, and pursed his lips.

"Who are you, where are you going from, and what are your intentions on these lands?" the other leader called out. "Answer now!"

Rog couldn't make out his opponent's face in the dark of the night. He cursed his luck and squeezed the sword's handle.

"My name is Rog the Black," he growled. "Where I'm from is not your business, but I assure you, we want nothing with this land aside from quick passage. Now, if you may, get out of our way, for our temper is quick and our patience is pretty f-cking thin."

"You are coming from a direction we would expect from orcs, not from the Quendi," the voice said. "You are lucky we didn't shoot you and your people down when you were far enough, Rog the Black. Nothing stops us from slaying you now."

"Oh, I dare you to try," Rog grinned harshly. "You insulted us enough by comparing us to orcs, unnamed leader. We will go forth, even if it means staining this snow with blood - and I assure you, none of it will be of my people."

"You are outmatched," the voice grew colder. "And you're not gaining yourself points by threatening my people. You will be down in a matter of minutes."

"Good luck," Rog spit, "killing those who already died. I repeat for the last time. We only want to come through. We have no intention to make harm to this land."

"You are coming from Angband," the voice said harshly. "Rare escaped the Iron Hell, and none escaped it in such great numbers. Why should I trust you?"

"I say you watch your tongue, for you have insulted me twice already," Rog hissed. "Each of these people behind my back saw horrors you won't ever comprehend, suffered the pain you couldn't ever endure, and looked Moringotto Himself in the eyes - you think any of their wills could've been tampered with? Indeed you are as foolish as you sound, if you deem yourself able to stand between us and our home! Now, get out of our way - or bare your swords and fight like men you think yourselves to be!"

"Put your sword away," the voice ordered. "And consider us even, for as I insulted you twice, you insulted me two times in response. Your goal is reasonable, but same was my concern - though I see, now, that you burn too bright to be under Enemy's will. Still tell me, Rog the Black - are you sure you'll make your way home?"

"The Iron Hell itself couldn't hold us," Rog answered. "Whatever lies between us and our destination should rather get out from our way."

"Maybe, but do you have provision, medicine, weapons aside your rusty swords?" his opponent demanded, and didn't wait for an answer. "Exactly. There is a fortress not far from here. Come with me, and I will make sure you have all the necessities."

"Your change of temper is surprising, and, frankly, disturbing," Rog said, and fel at least forty pairs of eyes pierce through him with an extreme level of dissapointment. "How should I know you're not walking us into a trap? Just give us the passage, and we'll be out of your hair by the morning."

"I will tell you my name," the voice answered simply. "I believe you won't need any further explanation."

Rog was silent, waiting for the person to finish their sentence. Somebody lit a torch.

"Maedhros Feanorion," said Rog's opponent in a steady voice, looking at him with steady green gaze, torch flickering in his hand. "I'm glad to welcome you in my realm."

... well, Rog thought. Life sure loved surprising him.

[sins-of-the-sea]

There was another pause in the Maestro’s voice, but not as long as the last.  Well, if he was going to give a speech, he should show his face, eh?

The snake unwedged himself from where he was hiding.  For a moment, it was just a ribbon of light, standing upright in a cobralike manner, before expanding into a man’s form.  Forte took his human form in a matter of moments.

“It has been some time since we’ve properly spoken, face to face.”

The wispy old Maestro decided not to include how upset he’d been that he hadn’t been consulted for advice.  Or that he thought Guy ought to leave behind the bastard who nearly took his son away.  Seemed… like a bad time for all that.

“I just want to give you a, as they say, a pep talk.  You know that what they all say about you is bullshit, don’t you?  None of this is your fault.  That is all lies.  Vicious lies.  You shouldn’t feel guilty simply for living, nor punished for having emotions.  I know that.  I understand that.  If ever you doubt your worth, then you come straight to me.

“Now, I know you are strong.  I want you to act like it.  I can’t sit by and continue to watch as you are unable to stand up for yourself.  So, raise your head son, and know truly you are deserving of happiness.  Bite back.. if you must.  Can you do that for me?  It’s the goal of the world to break people like us… but we REFUSE.”

[never-took-a-lesson]

Guy almost drops the tea he was preparing. "Olalalal!! Kwasan?! You were-

"….That explains why Monsieur Cogsworth was asking about you…

"…..And why none of us have died to a snakebite yet despite just letting you slither around freely. Seems it's a good thing Phoebus was afraid of you on principle, snake or no."

Guy hasn't come to Forte for advice or just any other talk lately… simply because he's afraid of exposing him to the Master more, even though the Maestro can likely hold his own just fine. But that is no guarantee for Guy. Seeing how he is so willing to come forward for times of strife, however, Guy thinks twice about his anxiousness to approach Forte for anything. Perhaps he can give advice regarding the mistakes he made. Maybe he knows what can be done to subvert a greater evil. Maybe he knows how to save a lost loved one.

….Or he can confuse Guy over what he's saying. Sure, a lot of things said about him are shameful and disdainful, but….

"…I thank you, good sir??" Guy replies once the speech of fighting back and deserving happiness is complete. "What brought this on? I am thankful for this, I assure you--there are many times I feel I deserve the worst coming to me. And I have been cutting people off who make me think that way. Too much, I think. I'm starting to feel more and more alone…"

He does feel more and more alone. Lately all the antics he's been doing with his Crew are either just typical lollygagging among shipmates at sea, or very self-serving actions that put everyone in danger. Like his attempt at a solo raid. With everything going on, he is praying the Crew won't fracture further despite the Master's demands they remain a coordinated unit.

He understands now where the Maestro is coming from. But G-d in Heaven, it's so hard.

"I'm trying, Maestro. I really am. I'm so very sorry…. I want to believe that. I want to believe what I am doing is right and deserving of happiness. But it seems all I'm doing is driving people further away in seeking out my own. I don't want to abandon myself to please the people around me… but I don't want to destroy them in pursuit of myself either. I don't want the people I care for to keep crying for me when I am the one hurting them."

"Oh, Maestro…. what am I doing wrong??"

[rogue-durin-16]

FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS

Request: I have been insecure about my curly hair lately and was wondering if you can you write something with one of the weasley twins where the reader is insecure about her curly hair and one of the twins makes her feel better.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @wildcat1434

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: So like, incoming fluff bc this idea was cute and sometimes I do be needing fluff, that's about it, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The relationship between me and my hair had always been... Bumpy, you could say.

There were periods in which I would find it quite lovely; during those times I would let my curls free, showing them off with a proud demeanor, knowing my hair was unique. Those times began to turn less and less usual since the middle of third year, though they were still there.

However, after the summer prior to my sixth year, those moments had banished; I only wished to hide my hair, and my friends ended up noticing. They told me surely there would be a spell or potion able to change my hair.

As if they had summoned it, the next day in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall introduced us to what seemed like my salvation; Crinus Muto, an advanced spell that modified the caster's hair with no restrictions.

My best friend advised me against using it, claiming it wouldn't help my insecurity— if only, it would worsen it.

I really wanted to do as she had told me and completely dismiss the spell's existence, but two nights after I had a big mental breakdown about it, caused by the most stupid thing ever.

"Is Weasley staring at you or am I blind?" One of my friends whispered, her eyes trained on the Gryffindor table.

I didn't even bother to look up, not wanting to know whether it was true or not, before responding with a quiet "You're blind."

"I mean, it's hard to tell with two rows of students between us but," She nudged me, urging me to avert my gaze from my dinner and redirect it to Fred. "it kinda looks like he's... staring."

Curiosity killed the cat, I guess. My eyes finally left my plate and were, in fact, met with Fred's brown ones. As soon as they met, though, he looked away, pretending to be focused on his food, just like I had been doing seconds ago.

"Of course he's staring." Hannah Abbot, who sat right in front of my friend, commented with her mouth full. "Have you seen your hair?" She swallowed her food, looking me up and down before adding, "No offense, but it's an absolute mess." My eyes opened widely in shock at her bluntness. "You should take care of it, really."

"Has someone ever told you you're an ill-mannered bitch, Hannah?" I heard my friend talking back at the younger girl while I got up and started to make my way out of the Great Hall.

Of course, I didn't see Fred shooting up and attempting to go after me; ultimately he decided to stay in his place, since he saw my friend walking out too.

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

I was very aware of all the pair of eyes that had been laid on me the very moment I entered the greenhouse where we would be doing the Herbology tasks.

When I had met my friends at the Hufflepuff common room that morning, I had received divided opinions about my straight hair. At first I had been very convinced that it looked way better than my curly hair, but seeing my friends' reaction, I wasn't that confident about it anymore.

I didn't have time to undo the spell before class, so I decided to go along with it and see how the day unfolded.

I took a deep breath, my eyes trained on the ground as I made my way to an empty seat; maybe there weren't that many people staring, maybe it was just my anxiety.

I finally gathered the courage and looked up, nervously scanning the glasshouse so I could shake off my fears.

There was only a couple of my peers staring, which would have put me at ease, if one of them wasn't Fred Weasley.

On top of it, of course, he wasn't even trying to be subtle, it was almost as if he wanted me to notice his judging eyes; I could feel his gaze on me for the entire class.

The instant Professor Sprout dismissed us, I shoved everything in my bag and left the greenhouse, thanking a couple of Gryffindors who complimented my hair on my way out.

Again, I didn't notice Fred leaving the class as soon as he could to run after me.

I threw my bag against a tree near the lake shore and, as I fell against it, I heard someone jogging in my direction.

"In a hurry to sit by the lake, Y/l/n?" I followed the tall ginger with my eyes while he circled me and sat down by me. "You alright?"

"I just needed a break from... People." I vaguely explained, focusing on the water instead of on the boy besides me.

"Understandable." He hesitated for a second before adding, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, it's fine." I surprised myself at how calmed and collected I sounded, as if I wasn't chatting with my crush.

"What happened to your hair?" His genuinely curious inquiry took me aback, and I struggled to find something to answer.

"Why?" My heartbeat picked up, anxiety inundating me once more. "You don't like it?"

"It looks weird." Fred looked at me up and down with a grimace. "You don't... Look like yourself." I was about to enter fight or flight mode, but he seemed to notice, and panic made its way to his face. "But it doesn't matter what I think," he was quick to add, his eyes wide open as if he knew he had said something he should have not. "I mean— I think it shouldn't matter, if you like it, that's great— I mean, you don't need my opinion about that either!"

"Calm down, I understand." I tried to reassure him, before his rambling drove the both of us crazy. "Can I tell you a secret?" He nodded with pursed lips, surely afraid he would fuck up if he spoke again. "I've been very insecure about my hair lately— like, very." I sighed. "My best friend told me not to straighten it, but last night I got a not so nice comment and—"

"So that's why you left?" I nodded, tugging my sleeves. Fred went silent for a moment, and then cleared his throat and scooted closer to me. "I know this won't do much, but I really love your hair. Kinda reminds me of fireworks and streamers." He gestured around his own head, mimicking the fireworks' movement. "Dunno I think is fun and pretty awesome." I raised my brows at him in surprise. "Like you."

"Aw, that's very sweet." He offered me a sheepish smile as I felt my cheeks blushing. "It does a lot, actually." I confessed, fidgeting with my rings. "I guess I kinda needed to hear something positive about my hair."

"Well, whenever you need to hear something positive about your hair," he pointed at himself. "I'm your man." He winked at me and I let out a chuckle. "I can also tell you positive things about you in general, but that has a price."

"And what is it?"

"You'll have to let me buy you a drink at The Three Broomsticks this Saturday." I tried not to let panic slip through my recently eased demeanor; was he asking me on a date? "And give me a kiss after." He wiggled his brows at me and my face turned red. "the kiss is negotiable."

I casted my gaze down, fixing it on my shoes, not sure of what I was supposed to say at that. His foot tapping mine snapped me out of my thoughts.

"So?" My eyes traveled to him once more, only to find his studying me already. "What do you say, Y/l/n?"

"Well," I shrugged, trying in vain to play nonchalant. "Seems like an affordable price, so it's fine by me."

"I'll pick you up after lunch, yeah?" Before I could agree, he gasped, his eyes going wide. "I'm a genius."

"Come again?" I frowned, confused as his sudden frantic behavior.

"Don't mind me, love." He jumped up and jogged towards the castle, leaving me puzzled in there. I was about to grab a book from my bag when Fred rushed back, crouched down and pecked my cheek. "Your hair's amazing." He assured me. "See you!" My fingertips graced my now flushed cheek as he headed off.

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

I was finishing my lunch when two towering redheads entered the Hall running; while George, slowed down, Fred made a beeline to the Hufflepuff table, his casual clothes already on.

"Ready?" He asked breathless.

"Yeah— you didn't have lunch, did you?" I pointed out, getting up to stand in front of him.

"No, but I'll eat something later—" his eyes roamed over my carefully picked outfit before stating, "You look... very pretty."

"Why, thank you." I offered him a smile and looked over my shoulder at the Gryffindor table, where his friends were very attentive to all we did. "You sure you don't wanna eat something?"

"Hundred percent." He tilted his head towards the gates. "shall we?" He prompted to walk before him, and it was then that I realized he had his hands behind his back. Once we were out in the yard, he tugged my hand and made me turn to him. "I made something for you."

"You didn't have to." Was the first thing that came to my mind when I heard his words. Then the wording dawned on me; he didn't get me something, he made me something. "What is it?"

"So, you know that I told you your hair reminded me of fireworks and streamers?" I nodded, not quite knowing where he was going with that. "Well—" he then showed me what his back was hiding; a delicate, tiny firecracker with my name written on the side. "George helped me so I could finish it on time."

"I'm—" at my loss of words, I could only let out a happy laugh. "This is so cute— am I supposed to ignite it?"

"Duh!" I gently pushed his shoulder in response to his teasing. "Do you know how to do it?"

"I've seen you do it plenty of times." I admitted, grabbing the firecracker with one hand and my wand with the other; it looked so pretty, it was a pity I'd have to ruin it.

With a brief firemaking spell, the firecracker set off. Fred pulled me back slightly before it happened, though.

I was in awe at the beautiful fireworks before us, which looked like a color-changing, expanding version of my hair.

When the colors died out, I turned to Fred, whose attention was already on me, awaiting for a reaction. Surely, he was not expecting the kiss he got, but he didn't complain either; while my hands rested on his chest, his traveled to cup my cheeks before I could pull away.

"So you liked it?" He questioned quietly against my lips.

"I loved it." I whispered back with a wide smile. "You're a sweetheart." I pecked his lips before retreating. Holding his hand in mines, I made my way back into the castle. "We're not leaving until you have lunch."

"You are a sweetheart." He responded, following my lead without offering resistance. "By the way, your hair looks gorgeous." The corners of my lips twisted into a bigger smile at the sweet words he spoke only for me to hear as we went back into the Great Hall.

Maybe my hair wasn't that bad after all.

[lookforthefuture49]

Yo!

I got a fanfiction, finally. I don't expect it to be read much here, but here are the links to fanfiction.net and Ao3 pages for it respectively:

Ao3

Fanfiction.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13947355/1/Universal-Wars-aren-t-fun

Ok now I can paste it.

Enjoy <3

[Note: this story is only to be on Archive of Our Own/Fanfiction.net under the username DoubleKKookie and on Tumblr under the username Retrooutlaw. IF YOU SEE IT ANYWHERE ELSE, PLEASE SHOOT ME A PM! This is also kinda meant for funsies, obviously.]

Note note: half created by AI Dungeon. Yay for Ai Generated fanfiction lol

[Universal wars aren't fun//1//Battlegrounds]

Izuku's hair ruffled in the wind, the view of a crumbling city crossing his vision. It was odd, how one minute the world was peaceful, and the next an inter-dimensional war decided to happen. During this war of many universes, most of his world was ravaged. Izuku figured he would probably be safe, at least for now. His world might be a battleground, but he wasn't in the midst of the fight. He wouldn't hurt people from other worlds just because some of their worst villains wanted to attack other places. In fact, Izuku just wanted an excuse to help these new people, to stop their worlds from being ruined too. His plan was to travel between the worlds.

Except, all he got was a dazed sense of incompleteness as the world around him seemed to flicker. For a moment, it seemed as if he were home again visiting his mother over a break, excited to see what his friends did. He could feel a couple of tears form, but of happiness, of joy. However, just as quickly as this flicker came, it left, and he came to the realization he was just remembering the past, that he was still alone in the forest, and that seemed to worsen his sad state.

Izuku turned and took a few steps. He had to get moving, and he had to get moving now. He didn't quite know where he was going, but he knew it was far from his home. All he knew was that he had to keep moving, and find a new reason to fight. So, Izuku decided to just keep walking. He made his way through the forest, dodging branches and occasional bokoblins.

Bokoblins were odd, as he'd never seen them before the inter-universal war began. They hadn't even kinda existed in his world, but now he felt like he was fending the creatures off every other step. He never attacked them, but it seemed like he was constantly running from them, even if they were obviously weak.

This rural area he'd found himself in looked to be nearly untouched by the war. Still, there was this odd sense of unease, and Izuku felt like he was being watched. Like he was being watched every step of the way.

Fearful of this feeling of a watchful eye burning a hole into his back, he began to speed up, getting to the point of running. Running as far as he could, as fast as he could.

The more he ran, the faster he felt himself becoming. He couldn't tell what time of day it was, but he knew that it had to be night.

He ran for what felt like an eternity before stopping, legs buckling under him

He fell to the ground, trying not to cry out. He stood back up, deciding if he was going to be upset about a stupid war, he was gonna do it where it was safe, so he stumbled away from the wide open area he was in, and eventually found a flat-topped building, which he entered before reaching the roof and staring out at the more rural area he had found himself in. What modern building were there, such as this one, were overrun with vines and ivy.

He sat down on the roof and wrapped his arms around his knees, finally letting everything soak in. This situation was garbage. He'd been left behind by the civilians who escaped, he had no idea where his friends were, and he had no way of contacting any heroes or any of his peers to come to his aid.

Izuku didn't want to think about the possibility that they were all dead, but looking at the modern buildings being overtaken like this one, he couldn't help but think such a thing. If the entire town was this destroyed, how on earth could THEY be ok?

He didn't understand how something so bad could happen. How the world could ever go back to normal after what was happening right now, Izuku didn't know. But, all he could do now was try to help, and help he would. The moment he saw a portal open, it was his door to purpose, to other people, whoever they were.

He didn't care what world he stepped into. He didn't care if he died, he just wanted to make a difference. It was no longer about this world, about him, or any of the pro-heroes he once loved. Now, if it meant death, he'd stop this war. He decided right then and there he'd do it for his friends, for his family, for All Might, and for whoever he met on the other side of the portal he was adamant on finding.

He wouldn't fail. Lifting his arms from his legs, he rested his face against his knees and took a deep breath. He lifted his head up, staring to the sky.

"I promise, I'll save everyone. No matter what."

...

Izuku sat on that roof for several more minutes before deciding to resume his search. He stood up, left the roof, and began to walk again- until he heard something. Multiple people, a fair distance away behind him. Judging from what he was hearing of the conversation, they hadn't noticed him yet, and were rather focused on someone who sounded distressed and wanted to get away from them. He hid behind the building as the group of people came into sight, listening into their conversation closely.

"LET ME GO!" He heard peirce the air, and when he could see the group, he noted the man who yelled it was being dragged by the arms by two other people, and this man also looked.. unexplainably odd. His appearance didn't matter now, though. What was important was the predicament he was in.

"Would you just put me down already!?" He snapped again.

His supposed captors looked even angrier than they had initially.

"Our leader says that's not allowed, bucko." One of the two people holding him said. His voice was gruff and southern.

He had a goatee and his hair was slicked back. The other one was female, model-esque.

She had long, curly blonde hair, calm blue eyes and slick red lipstick, which was weird for someone to be wearing in this kind of situation.

"Our orders are very clear. Boss wants you."

"I DON'T KNOW WHO YOUR STUPID BOSS IS BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU-"

The southern-sounding captor pulled a lighter from his pocket, and with it lit, rammed it into the torso of the man. He let out a blood-curdling scream and then didn't say another word afterwards. he, nor his clothes, had caught on fire, oddly enough. The southern guy snarled at the man. Izuku wasn't entirely sure who was good or bad in this situation, but he was irked by the entire scene. The only hard part was deciphering if the one who was captured by these two was good or bad, as saving a villain in the midst of a crazy war would be pretty counter-productive. From the way this man's captors were talking, however, he figured he was either a hero like him, or just in the moral gray trying to stay out of things.

Taking a risk, he stepped out from the shadows...

"Stop!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. They turned to look at him, and their eyes went wide.

He pointed at the man. "You two! Release him right now!"

"What do you think you're doing?" The southern one hissed angrily. "This is none of your business, kid! Go back to where you came from!"

His eyes flicked to the man, who seemed to be either knocked out or unresponsive, as he hadn't even twitched when Izuku shouted in his general direction.

"I don't care! He's being mistreated! I won't stand for it!"

The model (At least, Izuku assumed she was a model) whisper-hissed something at her comrade, who just scowled and shook his head. The two started arguing in hushed voices, as the man they dragged here was now beginning to stir.

When he did open his eyes, fear was clear in them immediately, probably thinking the glare Izuku was directing at his enemies was for him. He calmed after a moment, however. The pair seemed bugged but opted to leave without the man now that they'd been found by someone else. (Maybe that's what they were arguing about) They dropped the man harshly, although he didn't seem to be bothered by this at all. He seemed more bothered by the burn mark just below his chest, which, while small, seemed to be quite painful. It was hard for Izuku to gauge what the man was feeling, though, since he looked dead. Not just figuratively, but quite literally rotten and dead. It was strange, but Izuku decided not to question it, for that wouldn't help either of their situations. He instead walked up to the man, hoping to maybe initiate a conversation.

"Hey, um..." Izuku wasn't really sure what to say to him. He didn't know his name, for one.

The other was that he looked like he'd been through hell and back. He had a multitude of scars, both old and new, on his face and body. They were either dark purple, black, or was a hole, which revealed an empty vessel underneath. In fact, his entire complexion was purple, which struck Izuku as off. Any normal person, quirk or not, definitely was not supposed to be dead and purple.

"Are you alright?" Izuku decided to start with. Simple enough.

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine." (That comment definitely didn't pan out, but Izuku didn't know his life. Maybe this was normal.) Izuku noted a prominent British accent, one he hadn't noticed while the man was shouting angrily, which was odd, because he probably should have. Taking a closer look at him, the strange man was thin, mangy, and also lacked hair. His pupils were glowing, which also really was strange, and the whites of his eyes were now, instead, pitch black. It was somewhat unsettling, but Izuku tried not to think much of it.

"What was all that about?"

"Frankly, I dunno. One minute everything was normal and I was sitting at home, and the next those two were dragging me along to their 'boss'." He replied.

"I tried to get away, but it wasn't exactly easy. I kinda miss having muscles." He said this in a very nonchalant way, shrugging. Evidently, this man was missing vital body parts, who knows how many, and he was acting like it was completely fine.

"I... see," Izuku said, though he wasn't sure what else to say.

"So, what about you, kid? What's your name?"

"Izuku. Call me Deku, please." He stuck out a hand.

"Michael." The other shook his hand, and Izuku noted that he felt no bones in his hand, like it wasn't solid. It was strange, completely empty. "Uhm, do you know what's been going on lately?"

Michael did not reply immediately. "I dunno, something about some war? It didn't seem to pertain to me until I was dragged into a different world entirely, but feel free to explain."

"All I'm really sure of right now is that there is an Inter-Universal War going on right now, and I want it to end. Mostly because it's left my home a wreck, and I don't want that to happen to anybody else's."

Michael nodded in understanding.

"I can appreciate your feelings on the matter."

...

"How long have you been here?"

"Probably only a little over 2 hours."

Izuku had given Michael the choice to stick with him or go off on his own, and, not knowing what else to do, he agreed. Now they walked aimlessly as Izuku tried to explain a bit about what his world used to be like, and just make small talk. Izuku had decided the moment Michael agreed to tag along that he would not question his purple complexion or the lack of internal structure. It seemed like it might be rude, or bring back bad memories if he said the wrong thing, and he didn't want to cause that.

"I see."

They continued in silence for about an hour, before Michael spoke up again.

"I think I prefer this place over my home, truth be told."

Izuku was a little surprised that he would say something so out of nowhere. "Why?" He asked.

"I could go on for days about the terrible things that happened there." Michael sighed. "I don't particularly like dwelling on the past, so I tried to block it out. But here, it's all right. Even the atmosphere feels less oppressive, even if it's obviously still chaotic here."

Izuku frowned. "That's a pretty deep feeling to come up with so suddenly.

"I've had plenty of time to think, and this is the only conclusion I've come to."

...

The night took a long time to come, and Izuku still could find no portals, nor salvation in another world. He would have to wait another day. The pair sat down, and Izuku found himself falling asleep quite quickly...

It seemed like only seconds had passed when he felt something pulling him back to reality. He opened his eyes, and saw that the sky was beginning to turn pink.

"Get up." Michael whispered.

Izuku squinted, kind of annoyed. "Why?" He whispered back.

"I hear a large group of people coming, and I don't want to risk anything."

"Alright." Izuku nodded.

He stood up, as quietly as he could, and stretched, yawning. He was about to head off when he heard the sounds of many feet marching nearby. They were getting closer every second. He halted said stretching, and opted to climb up a tree. Michael made an attempt to hide, slipping behind a tree, but he was pretty easy to spot if one simply looked a little.

Izuku looked down at the group of men, as they marched by. His only question was why they were marching along together like this, and here of all things. They almost looked like soldiers, marching along with random weapons in hand. They were of varying species, although Izuku did not pay mind to this. When they passed and were far enough, Izuku leaped down and gestured for Michael to follow him as they tailed the group to see where they were going.

"What is this?" He hissed. They were headed towards a large open area. The group marched on, keeping pace, until they were they were the size of ants in distance. Izuku looked out to the open, treeless plains ahead. It took a minute to click in his mind, and he realized as Michael caught up what the plains were.

They were in the midst of a battlefield.

That's a wrap :D

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hello everyone. I’ve been wanting to write something longer for this couple for a while, and this idea seemed quite fun. I hope you all enjoy it and maybe I can convert some of you to living Freed x Gajeel. Happy reading.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter One - Makarov's Idea

As he walked towards the guildhall, Freed kept looking up at the moon.

The nights sky was cloudless and gave him an unhindered view of stars and the moon. It was a beautiful sight, but made him frown a little. The moon was large and nearly in its fullest state, a concern for the time of year. It had been some time since the full moon had coincided with the longest day of the year, and it seemed like it was going to happen again this year. The brimstone in his blood seemed to fizz at the idea, and he quickly looked away.

At his side, Laxus bumped his shoulder to get his attention. His frown told Freed that the dragon-Slayer had seen his concern, and he smiled to comfort the man.

"Nothing to concern yourself about," Freed assured him. "I've got it under control."

"Make sure you do," Laxus instructed. "No missions until it's over, right?"

"Of course," Freed nodded.

Laxus seemed to think the matter settled at that, but Freed wasn't so sure. The entirety of the guild - or at least those not already on missions - had been called to the guildhall that night. Makarov hadn't explained why he wanted everyone present, but it was entirely possible that they would all be dragged away on a mission and that Freed would be forced to act as if everything was normal. So promising that he wouldn't go on any missions was more wishful thinking than anything else.

Still, if he did have to go on a mission, he could handle it. Six years ago, it had taken him by surprise. Not this time.

"Let's take bets," Bickslow, unaware of the hushed conversation, stated mischievously. "Fifty-fifty odds of it being either a world ending disaster we have to deal with, or some weird competition so he can perv on the gals again."

Laxus winced at the second option, but didn't deny it.

"It better not be the second one," Evergreen huffed. "But knowing him, it probably will be. So I'll put five hundred jewels on that."

"Nah, it's been too long since we all nearly died," Bickslow shrugged. "Five hundred on the world ending. You two sticks in the mud gonna get involved?"

Freed had stopped listening to their conversation moments before, and found his worries back on the sky. The full moon had been scheduled in exactly one week, and it meant trouble for him. He should be making preparations in case he lost control of himself; this was all a distraction. He should leave town, just in case.

His team looked at him in concern, but remained quiet.

As they approached the doors, Freed's mind remained preoccupied. A hand clasped onto his shoulder and jerked him back, and he realised it was Laxus. He frowned, only then realising he had nearly walked into Gajeel Redfox. The dragon-slayer glared at him, arms crossed to highlight his biceps. He didn't have much else than his physical strength, Freed supposed, so he had to show it off.

"Idiot," Gajeel spat at Freed, and Freed nearly scoffed at the hypocrisy of the word. If either of them was an idiot, it was not Freed.

Gajeel was walking into the hall before Freed could retort.

"God, who put a stick up his ass?" Laxus muttered as he shook his head. He looked down to Freed again, looking worried. Perhaps he hadn't believed Freed's assurances as Freed had hoped. "You need to go back? He ain't taking over yet, right?"

"No, I was distracted, that's all," Freed assured him, but none of his team looked happy. "I'm in control of myself. But I've got plans on how to approach the demon should I need them."

"Can we help?" Evergreen asked.

"I'll ask if I need it, but I don't suspect it'll happen," Freed placated them. They were still unconvinced. "You needn't coddle me, I'm fine. Particularly when there's apparently a fifty-fifty chance that the word is ending. Though, I'm putting five hundred jewels on the competition."

Apparently, the mention of gambling, broke the ice.

When they got inside the guildhall, it was more crowded than normal. All the tables on the lower level had been taken, and as such they were forced to climb to the S-Class balcony and sit there. None of them particularly minded that, and they waited for a short while for the rest of their guild mates to file in and settle, drinking and talking as they did so.

Eventually, Makarov walked onto the stage and stood before the crowd of wizards. After a few shouts for them to be quiet, the room fell into silence.

"Thank you all for coming," He began after clearing his throat. "I'm sure you're all wondering why we're here."

"For you to creep on us," Ever mumbled, and Bickslow snickered.

"Fairy Tail is a guild with its bedrock founded on the principles of friendship. We work so well because we work together. Whereas other guilds maybe have one or two teams, we have many," Makarov explained, gesticulating as he spoke. "It makes me so proud that you've forged these relationships and implemented them into your working lives. Your friendship and love allows you to work together to fight harder and become stronger, side by side as friends. I'm immensely proud of you all, but as of late I've noticed a problem with your work."

He paused, and Freed rolled his eyes. Everything was so dramatic with him.

"While you're very good at working with your own teams, you sometimes struggle working with the guild members you're unfamiliar with," Makarov continued, as if this statement were a tragedy. "And sometimes your teams won't be available, and I don't want you not taking group jobs because your regular team isn't around."

"Starting to think I bet on the wrong side," Bickslow grumbled, taking a drink.

Freed found himself only half listening. Whenever Makarov made an announcement there would be a lot of preamble that Freed didn't particularly care to listen to; not when he had bigger problems to deal with.

Perhaps, if his demon did become more powerful under the moon, he could rune himself into a cage of sorts. That might work, though perhaps physical manacles and shackles might be more practice. His team would be able to help with that, most likely. They wouldn't be happy about it, but Laxus had seen first hand what could happen when the demon was allowed to take over without restraint. He would understand.

No. He was worrying for nothing. The demon was under control now. Besides, he should be listening to his guildmaster.

"So, to broaden your opportunities, I've come up with an idea," Makarov grinned. "For the next week, you'll be split into pairs that you don't normally work with, and you'll spend all of that time training together. These partnerships will be random, and by the end of the week you'll be fighting side by side in a tournament to prove how well you can work together."

Hm, maybe a distraction would work better than restraints. Makarov's idea was flawed to the point of pointlessness, but a week of training might wear his body out to the point his demon wouldn't have the energy to take over.

"And, I'm sure you're all thinking why you should care about this, so there's a prize set up for the team who wins," Makarov was grinning wider now. "Fifty thousand jewels!"

That sent a rush of excitement and talking through the guild. Freed found himself wondering where the money actually came from.

"That's not all. The fights will be ranked on teamwork, cohesion and communication, and at the end of each fight you'll get points based on how well you did," Makarov was running his hands together. "And the team with the least points will have to do a punishment, and the winners decide what it is!"

"Goddamnit," Bickslow mumbled, handing money to Evergreen. "Always about punishments with him."

"If you knew that, then you should have bet smarter," Evergreen laughed.

Freed ignored his friends, leaning back and watching as Mirajane brought out a large, ridiculous top-hat. It wasn't difficult to guess that this was how Makarov intended to randomly choose the teams; pick them out of a hat. Maybe Laxus was right and his grandfather was turning mad, but he seemed to be enjoying himself so Freed had no place to complain.

He would simply drink his beer, watch the chaos unfold, and use the oncoming disaster as a distraction.

——

Gajeel swallowed down his beer with a scowl on his face. When Makarov had called this meeting, he had known that whatever the old crow had to say, it would piss him off. When Makarov had made his announcement, Gajeel had been proven right.

A whole week with some random wizard seemed pointless. Gajeel worked alone, and only teamed up with people when needed. This wasn't going to work.

Fuck, it was such a waste of time! He could be doing jobs and earning his rent instead of fucking around with a stranger, trying to embrace Makarov's ridiculous mantra about the importance of friendship. Or if he wasn't making money, then he would have at least liked to relax and take some time to rest. He didn't want to make a new friend, he wanted to eat, sleep and maybe find a guy to take to bed. None of that would happen with some Fairy Tail mage hanging around his neck.

"Our first team is," Makarov began as he rummaged through the stupid hat he'd had made. "Juvia and Natsu!"

Dammit! Juvia was one of the few people he could have tolerated. The other was the bookworm, and Makarov would probably say them working together wasn't in the spirit of things.

Still. At least the salamander had to work with someone who extinguished his fire. That was funny.

"Kickass!" Natsu yelled into the crowd, standing up and pumping his fist in the air because he lacked self control. "We're gonna dominate!"

They wouldn't.

"If you'd like to meet up and discuss your plans then now's the time," Makarov stated, and Natsu was making his way to Juvia immediately. "And now it's time for the next team up," He reached into the hat again. "It's Evergreen and Lucy."

No loss there. Maybe he and blondie could have been okay, but Gajeel wasn't pissed the chance was gone.

Lucy looked up toward the balcony and waved at Evergreen a little intimidated. Evergreen looked resigned, but after some nudging from Bickslow, made her way down the stairs and started to talk to the woman. Gajeel absentmindedly wondered if the two had ever had a conversation, because they looked awkward around each other; painfully so.

Fuck, that was going to be him, wasnt it?

Maybe he could convince whoever he was paired up with to lie and say they trained when they just spend the week alone. But then there was the tournament, and the threat of some random punishment, and Gajeel had already been humiliated after losing the guild-wide race and having to dress like an idiot; it wasn't happening again if he could help it.

"Next up," Makarov reached into the hat again. "Bickslow and Gray."

"Fuck yeah, some eye candy at last!" Bickslow yelled, and people laughed. Gajeel rolled his eyes, watching as Bickslow leant over the banister and looked towards his teammate. "Wanna make a deal, every time you strip, I strip."

Gajeel could see Gray avert his gaze as if bored, but he was red in the cheeks. They were even redder when Bickslow tossed his shirt towards him, both men now partially stripped.

Well, at least he wasn't with that idiot. The two of them would be a mess.

Many other teams were announced, and Gajeel found himself more and more annoyed each time. The partnerships made no sense, most of the time their magics wouldn't compliment each other, and Gajeel knew that it would end in disaster. At best, half of the partnerships might end up having a fight with each other, and at worst people would get hurt because they just didn't work. How the hell did Makarov think this was going to work out?

Maybe Gajeel should have slunk out and not attended the meeting. He was running out of money for rent, and his landlord was a bastard just waiting to kick him out, so it made sense for him to get a job. Maybe if he left now he could avoid it altogether.

"And next we've got Gajeel," Makarov shouted, and Gajeel cursed. "And Freed."

Oh fuck no. Absolutely fucking not!

Gajeel was not working with that stuck up prick. A guy like that had clearly never worked a day in his life, probably grew up in a fancy ass house and only got into guild work because it was a trend to slum it with the other wizards. Everything about Freed - holier than thou - Justine screamed pampered brat. He would probably throw a fit if he got dirt under his fingernails. He was the damn opposite of a man like Gajeel, and he knew he'd struggle not to murder the spoiled shit before the week was over.

Could he even defend himself? He had magic, but as far as Gajeel knew, that only worked when he had time to prepare. Hardly practical in the heat of battle, and what would he do without it? He wouldn't have the balls to use his sword as a weapon, Gajeel was pretty sure of that, and he looked like a gust of wind could take him out.

Fucking dammit. The salamander was better than this!

He damn near walked out of the guildhall then and there, because he couldn't deal with an egomaniac freak for a week. But, as he went to move, he saw the egomaniac freak walking towards him, and he was not going to allow Freed to think he was running away. He turned in his chair to meet the man's gaze but didn't make a move towards him. Freed could come to him, not the other way around.

Soon, Freed was in his space, standing above him. His expression was as unimpressed with the situation as Gajeel felt. At least they could agree on one thing.

He looked up to meet the mans gaze. Freed was… taller than he thought.

"I think it's fair to assume neither of us want to do this," Freed said rather than greeting him. Gajeel was right, he was a dick. "And I expect that the way I train myself won't be the same way you do, so likely there's a chance we'll come to blows, so I have a proposition."

Huh, maybe Freed was gonna suggest they lie and only pretend to train together. Gajeel would agree, but make Freed squirm first. "Yeah?"

"If we went somewhere and tried to train how we both normally do, it would be an act of futility," Freed explained. "We have six days to work together. I propose that for the first three days we train however I wish, and you follow my instructions. For the latter three days, we train however you wish and I will follow your instructions. That way, we both get three days of training ourselves in a way we know works, and the week won't be a waste of time entirely."

Huh.

That wasn't what Gajeel had thought, but he could deal with it. He had to admit, trying to find a way that would work for them both would not work, so this meant he'd at least have three days to improve himself.

"Fine," He grunted. "But I wanna go first. You're gonna drag me to some library or something like that, and that's a waste of time. Might as well make it a rest day after some actual working out."

Freed sighed, as if dealing with a child, and Gajeel nearly kicked him in the balls. "If you insist,"

"I do."

"Well then, I'll see you on Monday."

"Guess ya will."

That was it, and Freed turned to go back to his table. Gajeel emptied his drink, then grinned. Three days where the asshole had to do as he said; that was interesting. Freed probably spent his life being pampered and spoiled, but not with Gajeel. Nah, he was gonna work. Gajeel was gonna put Freed through hell and love every damn second of it.

[sophi-s]

Day 29 #Grief

Whoops. I actually ended up writing a short piece for this one as well and uh... I think I accidentally created a new ship... :O

To Mourn Together

By: sophi-s (me)

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Words: 1 961

Warnings: None

Characters: Uriel, Nathaniel, Abaddon (mentioned)

_________________________________________

With utmost certainty, one could say it was one of the brightest nights in the White City. Of course, with the buildings in the color of gilded snow, every night seemed bright. But that one particular night the full moon spilled its cold, silver light all over the angelic city, bathing it in a pale glow that reflected in the smooth surfaces and illuminated the warm darkness as the gentle gusts of wind blew through the quiet and empty plaza.

Aside from the sentries patrolling the streets, all of the Heaven's denizens were long asleep in their homes. All of them.

Except for one.

A figure of a lonely angel threads lightly through the city, grand white wings folded neatly at his sides, just like his hands behind his back. His golden battle armor is discarded in favor of a simple set of clothes. There's nothing threatening him after all. Lost in thought, he doesn't acknowledge guards greeting him as he passes by. He walks seemingly without purpose, reconsidering the not so recent events.

Your friend serves the Shadow.

The Archon? Corrupted?!

Impossible!

Leave me, Horseman. I must think of what to do now…

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. One hundred years. It's been over one hundred years since all of this happened. And yet, all this felt far too fresh in his head. As though it happened merely yesterday. Sweeping his gaze over his surroundings, he realised he'd left for the outskirts of the White City, where the grand Tree of Life stands tall and magnificent as it has since the day Heaven was created. But to his surprise, he wasn't alone here after all. At the foot of the Tree, his keen white eyes spotted another angel. A woman. The same silver hair, any other angel possesses, fluttering on the wind, wings of golden, radiant feathers slumped sadly against her back as she stood there, gazing out at the locked gate to the Well of Souls. Strange. He assumed he would be alone.

Since he wasn't trying to sneak up on her, she heard him approach quite early and whipped around to face him, her own robes billowing, but the moment she laid her golden eyes on him she simply sighed.

"Oh. It's just you, Nathaniel.."

"So it is."

Nathaniel murmured, silently wondering who she'd been actually expecting, and stood for a few long moments, looking at her. A black ribbon with a darkened feather tied around her right wrist caught his attention and something twisted painfully in his chest. Even blackened and bathed in Hellish corruption, the ribbon was unmistakable and the feather spoke for itself..

"What are you doing here, Uriel?"

He found himself asking nonetheless. It's been a long while since they last talked. After all, Nathaniel had been sent away from the Hellguard shortly after Uriel joined their ranks. And it was so long ago.. Humming quietly, Uriel turned away to look up at the Tree's tangled canopy of small fluttering leaves.

"A year…"

She sighed when Nathaniel came closer and stood beside her, watching her stare into the black sky where the moon gazed down on them like a gigantic, round eye.

"It's been a year since Abaddon died.. exactly a year, day to day."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, looking at Uriel's fingers absent mindedly stroking the end of the ribbon tied around her forearm. Even though he'd been away from the White City for quite some time, rumours about the commander of the Hellguard reached Nathaniel even in Lostlight. If they were true, then no wonder Uriel takes Abaddon's demise so personally. He could only imagine what was going on in her head throughout this year. He wasn't going to stop her from spitting out what she'd been choking up inside of her.

"And yet.. I still sometimes wonder. If I should've done something. Stopped War… I don't know."

"He'd been the Destroyer, Uriel. As much as I disagree with it, you couldn't do anything else for him."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Uriel huffed and lowered her head.

"I know. But… I still have this in my head. The sight of him reaching out to me for help. What if…"

She hesitated, something that was very unlike her. Nathaniel raised his eyebrows curiously, waiting for her to speak up. He had his suspicions from the moment Death brought the news of Abaddon's fate and he couldn't help but wonder if Uriel thought the same way.

"I refuse to believe he'd planned it from the beginning. What if all of it wasn't his choice? He can't have been in his right mind! What if before War killed him, in his last moments Abaddon, the real Abaddon, came back? What if… there was still something worth saving in him?"

Nathaniel's suspicions turned out to be true. She thought just like he had. Now it was his turn to look up at the sky. Indeed, there was something so enchanting about this particular night..

"I wondered myself, Uriel. Many times in fact…"

The younger angel crossed her arms and glared down at her boots as though they'd done something wrong. The branches of the Tree creaked mournfully as the wind tugged on them and ruffled feathers of both angels standing below. Its gusts were getting stronger and its voice whistling against nearby structures brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lost soul.

"Abaddon taught me everything I know. I had known him my whole life. It feels so… empty without him."

I can't believe he's gone. That's what she truly meant to say and Nathaniel knew it but said nothing of it. He knew that feeling quite well. Better than most. Abaddon had been his friend after all…

"Sometimes I feel like he's still here. Watching over me like he always has.."

Uriel chuckled humorlessly, as though she meant to laugh off the ridiculousness of her claim but Nathaniel didn't feel like laughing. He laid his hand on Uriel's shoulder, nearly making her jump in the process.

"Who says he isn't?"

He could clearly see her jaw visibly clench tightly at his assumption. Not that he could blame her. Nathaniel knew all too well what Uriel was going through. He didn't want anyone to feel like he does and he wished to offer her comfort, compassion. But it's not easy to do so while he grieves as well.

"Do you think I could've changed it?"

Uriel suddenly asked, making Nathaniel's eyebrow wander up.

"During the initial Endwar.. Do you think if I was a little faster back then…"

"Uriel."

The deep tone of his voice had just the result he was counting on as she cut off to finally look him in the eye. Nathaniel placed his other hand on her other shoulder and said sternly

"Even if so, it doesn't change anything. We can't turn back time. Thinking this way won't make you feel better."

"And how could you possibly know?"

It was just the matter of time before Uriel snapped and brushed Nathaniel's hands from her shoulders. There was fire in her eyes, burning like the hottest blaze of Hell.

"You don't know how I feel."

Frowning gently, Nathaniel heaved out a long suffering sigh.

"Quite the opposite in fact.. I know exactly how you feel…"

This seemed to have given Uriel a pause.

"I've known Abaddon even longer than you have. He was my close friend, one of the very few I had. When the news of his fall reached me I kept wondering if it would've been different if I was there. This one, wretched thought stayed with me for a whole century, like a festering wound that refuses to heal. If you seek understanding, I assure you, you will find it in me."

Would it have been different if I knew of the darkness that threatened Lucien? Sometimes he still has those doubts... In shock, Uriel opened her mouth a couple of times only to shut it again as she couldn't find suitable words. Until..

"I'm… sorry. I had no idea…"

With an unhappy smile, Nathaniel shook his head. He wasn't going to take offense. Grief does strange things to people. Uriel snapping at him wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

"Past cannot be changed. Blaming yourself will not bring you peace of mind. We must march into the future."

Snickering quietly, Uriel looked away.

"You speak words of wisdom.. But I cannot decide if they help me either."

Humming thoughtfully, Nathaniel measured Uriel. Her heart was bleeding profusely, even though she kept it hidden away. He knew how to recognise inner turmoil. From his own experience.. Fortunately, he knew just the way. And honestly, after all this.. Abaddon's treason, Lucien's collapse into the hateful darkness.. he probably needed it as much as she did. Carefully, but insistently, Nathaniel reached out to Uriel and gently pulled her into his arms.

"Nathaniel? What.. are you doing?"

Uriel didn't stop him, probably because of confusion and surprise. Not getting pushed away was a small victory in itself. He was more than happy to explain it to her. Going back to memories of that peculiar human who accompanied Death everywhere always warmed his heart.

"A good friend of mine had told me once that embraces can bring comfort. Especially in sorrow. Does it help you ?"

For a long moment Uriel didn't answer. She was thinking. Up this close Nathaniel could feel her heart rapidly hammering against her ribcage. But then she finally returned the embrace and placed her head on his chest with a heavy sigh.

"It does. Even if a little.."

A tiny note of wonderment in her voice was barely perceptible but definitely there. For a few minutes both angels stood like that in silence before Uriel spoke again.

"Do you think he's at peace? Abaddon, I mean…"

Staring at the shorter angel in his arms, Nathaniel harrumphed. The Charred Council was surely bent on condemning Abaddon, sentencing him to damnation even after his death. He only hoped that the Horsemen made short work of them before they were able to fulfill their dire promises and cast the already tormented soul into Oblivion. Nothing was sure. The only way to confirm either was to travel to the Kingdom of the Dead. Nathaniel couldn't say for certain that Abaddon has his rest or if his spirit in this very moment wastes away in nothingness. The mere thought made his stomach churn. But he didn't speak his fears out loud. He didn't dare.

"I do sincerely hope so…"

An answer as good as any, he supposed. It wasn't a "yes" but neither it was a "no". Perhaps it would be just enough..

"Thank you, Nathaniel.. I'm glad you came here…"

Somehow, an odd, heavy presence lingering about was abruptly lifted from the air when Uriel whispered into the edge of his coat but stayed motionless where she was, unwilling  and not ready to pull away just yet. Mourning is always easier with a companion. For just a second Nathaniel could've sworn he saw something… someone… move out of the corner of his eye but just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. It was most likely nothing. Just a fleeting trick of his imagination. Nathaniel rested his chin on top of Uriel's head and closed his eyes, listening to the wind blowing gently overhead and to her heart beating right next to his own. Two different rhythms that seemed the same. He didn't wish to leave just yet either. Luckily, he didn't have to. There was no need for hurry. It was still the middle of the night. No one will see them here, vulnerable and weak, slowly mending their broken hearts from the pieces.

They still had time…

_________________________________________

Bear with me, I just wanted those sad dorks to lift each other's spirits up. It's not my fault that I'm so trash 😂

At least I drew Nathaniel properly, as I promised :P

Darksiders Inktober drawing prompts by @imagine-darksiders

[writerfae]

@thegirlwithnonickname aaand here’s chapter four of Always by your side, the last chapter I wrote for it!

.

Chapter 4

'I don't think that this is a good idea.'

Lucas turned around to face his friend.

'Come on Ty, it'll be fun!'

Sneaking into an old deserted house at night didn't sound like fun to Tyler.

'Or are you afraid?', Lucas teased him. 'I thought you don't believe in ghosts.'

For Tyler ghosts simply couldn't exist. It wasn't possible. But Lucas believed it.

'I don't. But I still don't think we should do this.'

It wasn't about the ghosts. Just thinking about entering a lonely run down house made him anxious.

'What do we want here anyway?'

'Looking around of course. You heard the stories they tell about this place.'

Of course he did. One was crazier than the other. Strange things happened in this house, they said. Lost children, a mysterious murder and ghosts bound to the house for all eternity. Everything just stupid lies.

'You don't really believe in these stories, do you?'

'Why not? They could be true after all. You can never know. But we'll find out!'

He entered the building.

Tyler shook his head.

'You're unbelieveable.'

But then he followed Lucas into the house.

Of course they didn't find anything supernatural. The house was empty. No lost children. No bodies. No ghosts.

But a black cat, that made Tyler jump as he saw her, what made Lucas laugh.

'Giving the fact that you don't believe that there are ghosts here, you're pretty easy to scare.'

'Giving the fact that you do believe that there are ghosts here, we haven't seen many of them', Tyler countered.

Lucas stuck his tongue out at his best friend.

'Fine, maybe the stories about the house aren't true after all. But just because there are no ghosts here it doesn't mean that they don't exist.'

'Why are you so certain about that?', Tyler asked.

Lucas looked at him. 'Because I believe that everything is possible.', he said.

~~~

'That's... that's impossible.'

He must be dreaming. Or he was going insane.

This thing right in front of him... this couldn't be Lucas. Lucas was dead. And still... It looked like his best friend.

It was kneeling beside Tyler and looked at him with the same unbelieving expression.

'You... you can see me?'

The familiar sound of Lucas' voice made Tyler flinch. He gulped, then he nodded.

'This...' His throat felt so dry he could barely speak. 'This has to be a dream.'

Dream-Lucas gave him a small uncertain smile.

'It's not a dream Ty. It's real. I'm real.'

Tyler shook his head.

'N-no. You can't be real. You are...' He stopped before saying the word aloud. 'Dead.'

'I know. And I can't explain it either but somehow... somehow I'm still there. Or at least a part of me. Tyler please, you have to believe me.'

Tyler didn't know what to do. Believe him? Or rather run away?

His mind told him to run. This couldn't be true. Ghosts didn't exist.

And still, there was something inside of him that believed it. Or wanted to believe it. But how can something impossible be true?

'I can imagine that it sounds insane. That you believe it's a dream. I still can't believe it myself.'

He looked down at his hands.

'But... something happened and I don't know what or why but somehow I'm dead but also... not really. And I know it makes no sense but you're the first one who can see and hear me since the accident and...'

He was looking at Tyler now, starring him directly in the eyes.

'Please say something. Anything.'

Despair was showing on his face and even though Tyler still wasn't sure if he believed the whole Lucas-ghost-thing it made his heart ache.

Being near this thing felt damn familiar. It was the feeling Tyler always got around his best friend, just further away. As if he was there but at the same time... wasn't.

'It's... it's strange.' Tyler shook his head. 'It should be impossible but still... it feels like it's you.'

He examined 'Lucas' from head to toe. He looked like him. Talked like him.

If this was a dream, it was damn real. And if it wasn't... it was either a miracle or Tyler's grief made him go insane.

He held out his hand to 'Lucas'.

As the other noticed it, he understood what Tyler wanted to do and reached out as well. His hand almost toched Tyler's, then... went through it.

Tyler gasped and abruptly pulled his hand back.

'How is that possible?'

'I don't know.'

'Am I crazy?'

'Not much crazier than you already were before, I think.'

'Lucas' smiled. The smile Tyler had missed so much.

So he smiled too. Carefully.

He really hoped he wasn't dreaming. If it meant he could have Lucas back - even when it's just in a certain (really strange) way - then he wanted to believe it.

'And what now?'

Lucas thought about it. 'Now we find out why I'm here. And why you can see me now.'

'But first...', he said and his voice turned soft. 'You should go back home and rest. Today wasn't easy and I'm sure your mom will be worried. You're here for hours already.'

~~~

In the exact moment Tyler opened the door, his mother came running to him.

'Where have you been Tyler? I was worried.'

She hugged him.

'School called. They said you ran away. Are you alright? What happened?'

She looked at him with worry.

Tyler closed his eyes.

'It's all right now, mom. It was just... too much for me. I needed time alone.'

'I can understand that dear, but please don't scare me like this ever again, you hear me? When no one answered my calls I thought... I was afraid you... I'm glad that you're alright darling.'

She hugged him again. Tyler tried to calm her down.

She must've been really worried. Tyler was angry at himself for not thinking about her. She probably thought he would do something stupid.

He couldn't judge her for thinking that, not considering how bad his state was after Lucas died.

'It's okay mom, I'm fine', he assured her.

'Does dad know what happened?'

Suddenly he was worried. His dad wouldn't be appealed to hear about it.

'No. He's still at work. And no one will tell him, don't worry.'

She smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair.

'Are you hungry?', she asked then. 'I can make you something to eat.'

Tyler nodded. "Thanks, mom."

~~~

'You would never hurt yourself, would you? Not because of me and this stupid accident. Please say you wouldn't.'

It was the first thing Lucas said when Tyler came back into his room. He wanted to grab Tyler's shoulders, but his hands slipped through him.

Tyler closed the bedroom door so his mother won't hear something.

Then he asked: 'Why do you think I would?'

'I heard what your mom said. And I know what she meant. She thought you would hurt yourself. I know she wouldn't fear this to happen if you wouldn't give her a reason to fear it. So?'

Tyler looked down. 'Lucas you don't have to worry about...'

'Answer me.'

'No, I wouldn't. Never again', he whispered. 'It's just... since you died I'm feeling pretty bad. When you're feeling like this everything might be possible. That's what worried my mom. But I never tried it, I promise.'

It was the truth. Tyler looked at Lucas, who nodded. He believed him.

'Good. I never would've forgiven myself if you had.'

He turned his back to Tyler, walked to the window and looked outside.

Tyler, who didn't know what he should do, sat down on his bed.

For a moment there was silence, then Lucas talked again.

'I'm sorry you have to suffer because of me', he whispered.

Tyler wanted to tell him not to apologize. And that none of this was his fault. After all it was Lucas whos life was ended so early.

But Lucas didn't let him say it.

'I know what you want to say, but it is my fault anyway.'

He abruptly turned and faced Tyler.

'Maybe that's the reason I'm still here.'

'What do you mean?', Tyler asked.

'Do you remember? When we were nine years old and your parents had their first really big fight so you ran away? You were suddenly standing at my doorstep, crying so much it was almost impossible to calm you down.'

Tyler nodded.

At that time the fights between his parents had started to become worse. On said evening it was really bad, more than ever before. He was so scared that he sneaked out and ran to Lucas house. Lucas and his parents needed hours to calm him down.

'And do you still remember what I promised you back then?'

Again, Tyler nodded.

How could he ever forget it? He was more surprised that Lucas still remembered.

'You said that you'll always be there for me...'

'No matter what will happen. Exactly.'

Lucas walked towards the bed.

'I meant it. But then I died and you needed me more than ever. And I couldn't help you. I wanted to of course. I followed you and saw how you were hurting. And I wished nothing more than being able to talk to you, tell you everything will be alright and that... But it wasn't possible. Until today.'

He squatted down before Tyler, who was still sitting on the bed, so they were eye to eye. He looked at him determined.

'Maybe that's my task. Maybe it's my chance to keep my promise.'

.

So that’s the point where I abandoned this story.

I had no real plan how to continue and no time to continue it either (because of school). I still feel sorry for it sometimes, cause I adored the idea. Tyler and Lucas are my babies.