#hi how are you doing...are you still dancing (echo echo Enoch)

[gonzodangerfeels]

Guy wanted to waste a half hour in court trying to explain his positive cocaine test was only because he had been fucking a crackhead all weekend, and certainly not because he had been smoking crack with her. Oh no. No sir, not him.

[coryosbaby]

ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ

Enoch O’Connor x angel! Reader <3

“Enoch! Give it back!”

Your citrine voice echoes throughout Miss Peregrine’s Orphanage as you chase the dark haired boy down. In his hands is your favorite doll, cracked but still beautiful, one Enoch had brought to life for you in the wee hours of the night many (of the same) days ago. He stomps angrily through the house, his jaw clenched, large back muscles flexing. Ignoring the squirming of the doll— aka, Mary— and her annoyed kicks, he tears open the door of his room and slams it right in your face.

How rude he is! All you had wanted to do was have tea with him and show him your new book. He had snapped at you, snarkily said something about “the both of you being too old for tea parties” and that he had more important things to do then do something so childish. You had snapped back, hurt from his words, and he had stolen Mary from you.

You don’t understand how he can be so cruel. His mood changes like the seasons— one minute he’s got a small smile on his usually dull face as he listens to you speak, making you toys that live and breathe. And then the next, it’s like you’re satan spawn.

You rest your back against his bedroom door, pouting. Tears begin to well in your eyes. You just wanted to show him your new book.

It isn’t long before you’re wiping your face and strolling towards Claire’s room. She lets you rant about your book without fuss, fascinated by all the tales that you had enamored yourself with. She also cheers you up about Enoch.

“He’s just in one of his moods,” she explained. A frown had formed on both of her faces, even when the one on the back of her head was gnawing on a chocolate chip cookie. “You know how he can get. He’ll cheer up and apologize, like he always does. Besides, he knows how important Mary is to you. He’ll give her back, I’m sure of it.”

You wonder how a child so young can be so intelligent about such things. But you guess that’s what happens when you relive the same day over and over for fifty years. You learn things, and in a way, still grow mentally.

After your talk with Claire, you feel better. You bid her goodbye, say hi to Emma as you pass her, and wander down the halls barefoot in your flowing pink dress. You make your way to the library for a new book to read.

To your distaste, Enoch is sitting at the couch when you walk through the door. You let out a little “hhm” sound, stomping angrily to the shelves. He’s got his head in a textbook about anatomy and looks up from it at the sound of your voice. He scoffs, then looks back down at it again.

Your fingers skim over book titles, some pretty and dainty, some horrific and covered in fine, dark print. You decide to pick a book by William Shakespeare— A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You scratch your feathered wings, beginning to read the book as you make your way back out of the room.

You pause at the door when Enoch’s voice makes way through your thoughts.

“You’ve read that one,” he murmurs, as his eyes scan over you.

You waver, hand staying on the doorknob.

“I didn’t know you remembered that.” you reply. You had read it years ago. Or, what you presume to be years ago. If you can even count time here.

“You recited it to me.” he shrugs, taking a glance over at your wings. They always fascinate him, even after all of this time.

“I know what I did, Enoch,” you retort, not having much logic in your sentence. But when do you ever? “Don’t tell me what I’ve done. You don’t have a right.”

“What sense does that make?” He questions snarkily, but you’re already out the door.

—

Dinner goes without much fuss. Miss Peregrine looks at the two of you questionably, wondering why you didnt take your usual seat beside Enoch, but doesn’t mention it out loud. After the reset you head back to your room and immerse yourself in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your lace nightgown drapes down your body in silky waves.

Your shoulders are tensed, your feet tapping nervously. You’re used to Mary’s porcelain feet dancing across the hardwood floors, her tiny giggles as she looks at herself in the mirror. Usually at this time of night, you and the doll will lay awake in the dark, huddled under your ruffled pink comforter, and whisper to each other. It’s the only way you can go to sleep— Enoch had made her to help with your nightmares, after all. Your nightmares of children with no heads, monsters that pluck out children’s eyes in their sleep. Your nightmares of losing the people you love.

How could he be so cruel?

That anger flares up again. With a forceful hand, you slam the book down onto your desk and stalk across the hallway. Your knuckles rap against Enoch’s door ferociously, and when he finally opens it you force your way into his room with curses spilling off of your tongue.

“I don’t understand, Enoch!” Your wings seem to glow a dusty red hue from your rage. “I’m nothing but nice to you! I help you with your experiments, I try to be your friend, but at this point I don’t know if anyone could ever..“

You stop dead in your tracks. Enoch’s eyes dart to his work table, as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. You look across to it.

There, sitting happily, all fixed up, is Mary.

She has a smile on her painted face, and a new dress adorning her. Shes cleaned, polished, and almost looks brand new. All the cracks that were once on her porcelain skin have vanished.

“[y/n]!” The doll giggles excitedly, saying your name in words only you can hear. “Look what Enoch made for me! Isn’t it pretty?”

You gape as Mary happily twirls in her dress. Enoch clears his throat.

“She was filthy,” he mutters. “You should really start cleaning your things. It tracks dirt and grass all over the house.”

Turning to him, your stomach racks with guilt.

“You fixed her for me?”

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze, acting nonchalant.

“I’ve been meaning to for a while. It was quite annoying, watching her face caked with dirt everyday. And her dress was practically torn to shreds.”

You pick Mary up from the table, holding her in the palms of your hands. You press a kiss to her hair. The doll yawns.

“I’m tired,” she mumbles. “Can’t we sleep now?”

“In a moment,” you reply. “Why don’t you go to my room and wait up for me?”

She looks between you and Enoch, does that off putting giggle that would make anyone else uncomfortable, but not you. She hops down from your fingertips, and skips away to your room across the hall.

You hear Enoch’s bedroom door close behind you once she’s gone, and jump. The familiar raven haired boy brushes past you, taking a seat in his chair. His curls fall into his face, and usually you would move them away while he silently grumbled at you not to touch them. But right now, it’s different. You rock on the balls of your feet as silence fills the dark space.

“Enoch—“ you start, but the boy picks up a scalpel and throws one of his toys onto the table.

“I need the jar of hearts on the third shelf.”

It’s all he says, and you know that this is his way of saying he’s sorry. It’s an odd way, but it’s a way you’ve picked up on continuously. The boy doesn’t have the mouth to utter an apology, so he just brings things back to normal instead.

You scamper over to the shelves, picking out the jar he wanted, and sit it down beside him. A small smile grazes your lips, and you sit on the chair that he had put there just for you. He works silently, and his bottom lip pulls in between his teeth. You think it’s quite enamoring— sort of like your books.

Your mouth can’t seem to contain itself, and within minutes you’re speaking up again.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—“

“It’s my fault,” he replies. “I…I shouldn’t have came off so brash.”

Without thinking, your hand brushes up against his.

“It’s alright,” you explain. “I forgive you, even though you haven’t said you’re sorry. But I know you are.”

He pauses. He can’t help but trail his eyes down to where your hands meet. You smile up at him, and he adjusts in his seat.

You kiss him.

You don’t know why you do, exactly. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re something special. But your lips meet, and it’s sweet. Innocent, really— a small peck. His eyes are wide when you pull away from him.

“What was that?” He asks.

Your wings turn baby pink, and a grin spreads across your face.

“I just felt like it.”

[fanficparker]

My Home (Part 18)

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 18… Y/n Y/ln

Word count: 2.1 k words

Warnings: *MENTIONS OF FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS* Some action, some fantasy stuff, swearing

A/n: Tell me if you want to get added to the TAGLIST of My Home! For more parts see ‘MASTERLIST’ in my profile description! Taglist in the reblogged post. Tell me if you wanna get added :) PS: IF YOU COULD REBLOG IT, THE FIC ISN’T GETTING MUST ATTENTION ON TUMBLR….

Reader’s POV:

"It's a long story." "You tricked me into thinking you were dead. Of course I have time." "I think we gotta keep a check on the third person first", I said pointing at his shoulder as Dorothea stood up, red from anger.

"You go get those people away from here, meanwhile I will try to stop this bitch!" I pointed Peter towards the people stuck in the cafe as I moved forward to face Dorothea.

When I first came to Earth, I thought that school was my biggest enemy, then being treated as a personal secretary to Liz. My fosters were like my arch nemesis. Me unable to keep my room tidy was another big problem... And now we are all stuck with this evil bitchy witch!...

Like a flame thrower, she directed flames towards me and I directed high-speed wind on her, making the flames turn towards her. She winced as the flame touched her skin.

"How are you using powers without the ring?!" She yelled, touching her lightly burned skin. I giggled lightly.

"The ring isn't designed to give powers, it's designed to store them!" I said simply as she glanced over the rings she was wearing in question. I took it as an opportunity to attack her with another strong wave of water, and therefore I summoned large waves of water, splashing it at her, making her a mess again.

*** When I was thrown deep down in the Atlantic Ocean in that compartment, I thought I would die. But when I woke up and saw the compartment was already damaged, I was completely dry! First I couldn't understand what was happening, I thought I was a ghost or it was a dream, until I realized I was surrounded in a ring of water. It took me at least half an hour to figure out, that I was the one controlling the ocean water. I clenched my fists trying to bring water closer to me and the waves danced in my control. I remember, even though I didn't wear the ring earlier, I could control wind and water. The training made me better, not the ring. The ring never made me use the powers, it was me, myself.

"Exactly! That's what it is!" I heard an unfamiliar voice. I tried to see in the direction of that voice but I couldn't. "You can't see me. You can't see someone who is dead," the voice echoed. "Who are you?" I asked. "The man responsible for the death of Atlantis. The person that made humans destroy our beautiful city, the person because of whom, every one of our community was abandoned from Earth." It said. "Kaius? Are you Kaius?" I asked, in disbelief. "Yes. The former king of Atlantis. After my death, my soul could never escape this place, never. And now I know why I was meant to be here, even after my death. I was here to meet you." "Meet me? It's very weird I'm talking to ghosts..., but I’ve seen worst. So carry on!" "I never deserved the rings, never! But I was greedy, I wanted to rule the world. The rings were just like a container in which my brother Enoch, the real owner of the rings stored some of his powers in, just so that we could use them in an emergency, but we actually used them for our greed. He died because he lost hope when Dorothea stole the rings, repeating the history. But as I said, the rings are just five percent of the complete powers and if you could use powers without the ring then you are the only one who could stop her. You are blessed with Enoch's powers. You need to stop her before history repeats itself... or even worse!" He concluded, his voice shrill in the end. "That's too much to take in. How can I---" "You can't waste more time. Just leave!" "King Kaius? Kaius?" And then he didn't answer back and I was left with no choice, but facing Dorothea.***

"Look out!" Peter screamed getting me back to the present, Dorothea was throwing bricks at me. Peter was right, I suck at dodging. There was no way my reflexes will get me out of danger in a matter of seconds. There is just one thing I was capable of doing in such a short period of time - shut my eyes tight, and wait for a severe head injury. And so I did. Something hit me, but it was definitely not bricks or debris... Before I could react, I was pulled through the thing that hit me and that's when common sense hit the darkest parts of my brain - It was web, of course, it was Spiderman's web. And he pulled me till I was in his arms. The crashing sound of bricks falling on the ground made me open my eyes. Being close to him just feels so good.

"Uh! We are in the middle of the fight, so I think... " I heard Peter's voice, realizing I was a little lost in cuddling with him. I cleared my throat in embarrassment pulling apart, but the very next moment I was pushed to the ground by him, the crashing sound of another bundle of debris falling on the ground behind us.

"I think you are even worse in dodging skills than I scored, " he grunted inside the mask, falling on top of me.

"I would have kissed you right now if you weren't wearing a mask!" I didn't realize what I said until he made an 'Uhhh' sound.

"You would---" He said embarrassed and queer. Of course, how can I forget he's Peter Benjamin Parker... He isn't like those heroes who would say, 'Hey Chika, no time for that in the middle of the fight', he's my dumbo, he would definitely say something nervous and cute. And from 'middle of the fight' I realized, we can't stay like this forever. That's when Dorothea threw a flame of fire, like a flame thrower, but this time I was prepared to fight back. I pushed Peter off and blew high-speed stormy wind towards her, extinguishing the fire. I let out a hand, giving Peter support to stand up.

"You think you can win using just that water and air manipulation power and with your boyfriend in an insect costume---"

"Arachnid... "  I cut in Dorothea. And she breathes in a frustrated sigh.

"I have the power of all three rings, of all elements - air, earth, water, fire and even objects. You can't win me. Especially when I use the power of all 3 rings at the same time!" She sounded confident and scary and actually made me feel threatened. Maybe she's right, maybe I can't defeat her when she's in her full power.

"She can defeat you and she will," Peter's voice echoes through the whole scene. I look back at him in disbelief, swallowing a rock forming in my throat. "You will. If you can use those powers without those Gothic rings, then why not all of them? You don't need them. You can," he says, directly addressing me.

She clenched her fists, dramatically bringing her hand out as all three of her rings glowed. Oh god, she's my doom.

"If we die, we die together" I heard Peter's voice, it seems to light up confidence, but I don't want anyone to die, except Dorothea aka. my doom. Repeated falling on the ground had already made me taste my own blood, it's faint taste is still on my tongue.

'I can do this. Just I need to concentrate. Kauis said we don't need rings for powers, it's just 5 percent of the true power. I can do this. Peter fought his own teammates for me, he believes in me, I can't let him down and I won't.' I tell myself, shutting my eyes, straightening my posture, clenching my jaws. 'Concentrate'.

I could already feel her powers around me. She is successfully guiding all her powers towards me. "Concentrate," I screamed on the top of the voice and for the first time I could feel the fire burning inside me. I could feel the power inside me. I can do this. I will do this.

"Yes!" I heard Peter's voice as I flick open my eyes. I was in the air, my fists were on fire, but I wasn't burning. My hair was floating, the debris was surrounding me like a shield, water swirling around me. I bet I was looking like the guy from Dragon Ball Z. She looked even angrier, but she looked frightened too. She was afraid of me. She shook her hands forcefully as she threw a wave of water on me, but the debris blocked it. She got angrier, ready to attack again. But this is my turn. This is my chance and I won't let her take it. With a swift hand movement, I guide all the debris, all of it at once on her, caging her between rocks. But she comes out flying.

"If I could throw that much of debris, I would have smashed you, not created a boundary with it, especially when we both can levitate!" She grins like she's telling me how dumb I am.

"Fine!" I say and shoot flames at her, and she extinguishes it with water. There's no way I could stop her without doing something big, I have to destroy the rings.

Yes, exactly! I have to destroy the rings. There's no point in fighting her, and as the rings would be destroyed her plans would automatically fail.

Change of plans. Concentrate on the rings not her. And so I do. Her hands are now my target and I don't waste another moment to think any further. With my fire manipulation, I set all the 3 rings on fire. And she was screaming with the burning sensation on her fingers.

"If you don't wanna burn yourself just remove the rings," I alarmed. "I... Aaaaaaa..." She was screaming on top of her voice. The metal rim of the rings was already red hot and still on fire and the burning skin of her fingers was already peeling. She fell on her knees, the pain must be unbearable. The pain made her incapable of using the powers any further. I could see Peter analysing my plan. He was standing there, safeguarding any citizens left in this area.

"Just remove it! You will die already!" I warned again. And she finally gave up, she managed to remove the burning rings with her other hand, her fingertips scarlet, due to touching the hot metal and she threw all 3 rings on the ground, still holding her burned hand. She was covered in sweat and tears. I lifted all the 3 rings, in the air. All the 3 of them started glowing immensely. I will destroy them. With all my strength I focused all my power on all the 3 rings.

"Nooooo!" Dorothea screamed as the stones in the rings started to crack and out of the blue, she ran near it. She will kill herself. Before I could even think anything, she was just an inch apart when all the 3 rings burst to release a large amount of energy blinding my vision.

••• "Y/n... Y/n..." I could hear faint voices, amplifying every second. "P-Peter?" I managed to slowly open my eyes as my vision slowly restored. I was lying on Peter's lap. He took a sigh seeing me awake. "You’re alright!" He said hugging me tightly. "Ow oww," I think I had some minor injuries on my body and this bone crushing hug is really painful, so he pulled away. "You did it," he smiled. "We did it!" I smiled back.

I could hear loud sounds of clapping. Peter and I shifted our vision to the citizens surrounding us, expressing gratitude in form of claps. Dorothea was no where to be seen. She must have destroyed herself along with the rings.

That's what feels like to be a hero! But wait, it's over, we won! So I can go back to my planet, to my home!

Leaving Peter behind?

(TBC) Taglist in the reblogged post. Tell me if you wanna get added :)

PS: IF YOU COULD REBLOG IT, THE FIC ISN’T GETTING MUST ATTENTION ON TUMBLR….

[timetrickster]

Aloha Oe X Edith Nox Crossover Episode 10: There Is Always Hope For You

Here we are again... I sorta messed up on the original post but sorry everyone.

@cometworks , @coloursintheblur , @coloursintheblur

FADE IN:

INT. JUSTIN’S PRIVATE QUARTERS. MORNING

The morning had hit, JUSTIN’S private quarters were messed up again. Soda cans strung up along the tables and crushed on the floor. JUSTIN was sleeping with a pillow on the floor as well. EDITH walked in with a tray of breakfast. Trying to be nice and she places the tray on the table and wakes up JUSTIN.

EDITH

Justin. Wake Up. (She nudges his shoulder)

He wakes up suddenly, his entire face squished to the center of his nose. His eyes closed from all the bright lights, and he turns on his backside. Slowly regaining strength, with crinkles in his skin from the pillow.

JUSTIN

Morning… (He rubs his face to just wipe away his fatigue)

EDITH

Morning sleepy head. (She gives him a smile)

JUSTIN

Hey… (He gives her a quick smile) You okay?

EDITH shakes her head, responding with a no. 

JUSTIN (cont’d)

I’m sorry.

EDITH

(Has a slight smile) It’s okay. As long as we can get her back… that’s the important thing. I know you can do it because Fates know I’m not strong enough to get her back.

JUSTIN gets up and cracks a few bones just trying to stand up.

JUSTIN

Don’t say that. You are strong.

EDITH

I couldn’t stop her… I wasn’t… 

JUSTIN stops her before she says another.

JUSTIN

Please don’t… I know who you are. You are strong Edith. Don’t tell yourself otherwise.

He turns his head to an electronic board.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

Enoch… any traces of Violet anywhere within the area?

ENOCH (V.O)

Unfortunately not, Captain. The Search Drone has not found any significant results. I apologize.

JUSTIN

Keep searching Enoch. We’ll find her.

ENOCH (V.O)

Yes, Captain.

JUSTIN

Thank you, Enoch. (He sits next to Edith) We’ll find her. I promise.

EDITH lays her head on JUSTIN’S left shoulder.

EDITH

Thank you.

JUSTIN then has an epiphany 

JUSTIN

Edith…  Did you remember Neydolya and any of the others talking about their plans?!

EDITH realizing that there were talks of a grand scheme of evil.

EDITH

I don’t know… but maybe my Core Emotions did! They were under mind control they must’ve learned something.

JUSTIN

Let’s go to the med bay.

CUT TO

INT. MED BAY. 

EDITH is in bed asleep with a Mind Crown activated on her forehead. JUSTIN puts one on as well and turns to NOEMI.

JUSTIN

You know how this works, just watch out for any bad. Just help Enoch with anything she needs.

NOEMI nods his head, JUSTIN lays in a bed.

JUSTIN

Enoch, activate Mind Crown.

CUT TO

INT. EDITH’S MIND

JUSTIN lands outside the greenhouse once more, following the path. Hopefully, the CORE EMOTIONS don’t lose it again, with the whole killing him. He closes his eyes to find the Evocation Hall, entering immediately, seeing BERRY putting new plants on shelves.

JUSTIN

Berry!

BERRY turns immediately and can’t help but smile because of his chipper attitude. 

BERRY

Justin! You’re back so soon! What memories can I help you with now?

JUSTIN

When Edith was captured, did any of her Core Emotions have memories of the event when they mind controlled them?

BERRY had frowned due to hearing of the recent event.

BERRY

Fortunately, they’re all right here. Poor Edith, I hate seeing her go through something like that. Luckily I helped her when her mind lacked her emotions.

JUSTIN

That’s great! And hey, when we find out her plan. I’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to Edith.

BERRY

Well, (He smiles once more) let’s find the memories!

The two search through each new plant memory, looking at each leaf they pull and come across. Until they found the right one, JUSTIN looks into the leaf and is thrown into the memory.

JUSTIN stands before NEYDOLYA, hidden behind her dark cloak. As shadows cover her face, but he takes notice of her frail hand. He looked on in horror as he tries to understand what she really looked like. The memory plays out as NEYDOLYA speaks but her voice was raspy. The minions stand around listening to what she has to say. 

NEYDOLYA

My power grows weak! 

VODNIK

What shall we do mistress?

NEYDOLYA The Temple Of The Fates has a pool of water. Simply holy water to humans but to me, it rejuvenates my very essence a Fate. I’ve been gone for so long, I slowly started losing my powers. Mistral, get me a pouch of that water and restore me to my power. Prove your allegiance to me. (She raises her weak hand and points to a cloaked figure)

JUSTIN turns to see this cloaked figure, knowing who it is already. He is petrified from what he comes to learn. MISTRAL removes the hood, revealing an icy monstrous version of VIOLET.

She appeared human with crystalline clear skin made of verglas. It was coated with the white of winter and snow. Nearly all human traits were replaced with the element of ice. Her curly hair had been straightened and turned pure white, her eyes glowing sapphire blue.

JUSTIN

No… no no no. 

He moves toward the MISTRAL version of his former friend but his eyes and brows squinted with pain. The water danced along the lines of his eyelids for a quick moment. Scrutinizing the details of VIOLET’S monstrous form.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

You didn’t have to do this alone… I guess… I guess we're both going to have to keep our end of the bargain. 

He is thrown from the memory and in a rush presses where his forehead. He is sent back into the real world and has a disturbed look on her face. NOEMI rushes toward his side.

NOEMI

What happened?!

JUSTIN unable to put it into words, had a disturbed look on his face. He looked and shakes his head indicating that something terrible is going to happen. He takes off the Mind Crown and walks toward a corner.

NOEMI (cont’d)

Justin, what happened?!

JUSTIN

I saw… Violet.

NOEMI

Is she okay? What happened in memory?!

JUSTIN

She’s a monster.

That simple sentence had sent a shockwave of impossibilities.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

She’s not human anymore… whatever Neydolya did. She turned her into something inhuman. She’s a Frost Lilim… sounds way better than demoness. I don’t think I can tell Edith about this.

NOEMI

If you hide this from her it will break her heart.

JUSTIN

I can’t Noemi! I can’t tell her the horrible news that the girl she loves is a now evil and a monster. (He holds his face with both hands with worry and fear)

NOEMI

I don’t know what to do. Breaking her heart is the last thing I would ever want to do. The last thing you would want to do as well.

JUSTIN takes a breath in and releases both hands from his face. His bottom lip rises up forming a frown and he shakes his head a lot. Clenching his teeth and breathing in loudly but never out. He looks at NOEMI with serious eyes then toward EDITH still unconscious. The muscles in his cheeks shift backward and forwards.

JUSTIN

Enoch, turn off the Mind Crown.

ENOCH

Yes, Captain.

The Mind Crown on EDITH’S deactivated as she suddenly wakes up. She rises from her bed and sees both JUSTIN & NOEMI. Standing in away from her, discussing.

EDITH 

What happened? Did you find the memory?

JUSTIN

Yes, I found it but… (he falls silent)

EDITH

But what? Violet?! Did you see Violet?! What happened is she okay?!

JUSTIN shakes her head.

JUSTIN

Not to speak ill of her. She’s… she's a monster now. 

EDITH

No… she can’t be. Violet would never serve her. She’s a good person.

JUSTIN

Look I know this isn’t something you want to hear, but I’m serious. The deal she made with Neydolya was to set you free if she served her… and I’m guessing for Neydolya. Serve her as a monster.

EDITH

No! Justin that’s not true! Tell him, Noemi!

NOEMI looks at EDITH for a moment.

NOEMI

Justin would never lie to us. I’m sorry Edith but what Justin says will always be the truth and if Violet has been turned into a monster. Then… 

EDITH

STOP IT! (She screamed loudly) That’s not true. (She looks toward Justin, her face sculpted the mask of tragedy) Please tell me it’s not true.

Without hesitation, JUSTIN hugs her for comfort. EDITH was on the verge of tears hearing the horrid news of her girlfriend. 

CUT TO:

INT. TEMPLE OF FATES ENTRANCE. NIGHT

JUSTIN waits hidden near the entrance of the Temple as he knows of NEYDOLYA’S nefarious plan. It is until a shadow in the distance moves quickly through the castle grounds. Taking out guards one by one. Like dominos falling in unison.

JUSTIN

I’m sorry Edith.

He jumps down from the ceiling silently, seeing MISTRAL having entered, it was dark and dimly lit. JUSTIN turns on his Stealth Device and watches MISTRAL slowly walk toward the small pool of holy water. What he did not accept, was the slow clap… Fate Dammit… God Dammit… sorry wanted to be respectful to both universes. Anyways, the slow clap, not just an indication of an evil person nearby. But also a symbol of sensing when an evil person knows a good person is nearby as well. 

MISTRAL

Hello Justin.

Not wanting to give away his position, he speaks aloud in the temple. Like a simple shadow and ghost echoing his voice throughout the temple.

JUSTIN

Violet… 

MISTRAL

That’s not my name anymore.

JUSTIN

I know… Mistral. As much as I love the name choice, I hate what it’s for. Please don’t do what she asked you.

MISTRAL

I have to, I made a deal.

JUSTIN

So did I… and one promise.

MISTRAL

Don’t… 

JUSTIN

Edith. Think about her.

MISTRAL

Don’t bring her name into this Justin! 

Unable to see it from where he stood, MISTRAL has tears running down her face. Slowly falling but becoming ice themselves.

JUSTIN

She misses you.

MISTRAL

Stop.

JUSTIN

She loves you.

MISTRAL

STOP IT!

JUSTIN

She forgives you.

MISTRAL wailing out in anger and sadness, she summons her ice magic into both hands. Sending out beams of the magic around the temple in a circle. Luckily it missed the position where JUSTIN had stayed hidden. She falls to her hands and knees still crying 

MISTRAL

How could she forgive me?! After what I’ve done… I left her! I betrayed her! I became evil and now… I don’t know if I’m forgivable for anything I’ve done.

JUSTIN deactivated the Stealth Device and stood a few feet behind MISTRAL. 

JUSTIN

It’s because it’s you. Edith loves you the same way you love her. There is always hope for you.

MISTRAL

I’m a monster… 

JUSTIN

No, you’re Violet Choi. Princess and Warrior. A friend and the love of someone’s life. Please, come home.

NEYDOLYA having watched safely from her lair in the shadowy dimension. She snaps her fingers which sends a wave of aching pain in MISTRAL’S head. She screams loudly as her new form given her aching scream. 

Meanwhile, at EDITH’S home, her magic senses the pain of someone in pain. Causing her to drop everything and follow the outburst of pain.

JUSTIN having covered his ears from the deafening scream.

JUSTIN

VIOLET! (He screams)

The screams suddenly stop and she rises.

MISTRAL

Not anymore.

Her voice had changed, there was a slight echo behind it. Her eyes gleamed sapphire blue once more. Her monstrous form settles in and takes over with NEYDOLYA’S power. She raises her right hand immediately and fires an ice beam toward JUSTIN. He takes the hit of white flame as ice forms on his body.

Having nigh invulnerability, he takes the pain and gives a slight groan. As air releases through his nose and clenches his teeth to ease through the pain. He stands up, not drawing any weapons or summoning his time powers. Leaving his arms down and hands open.

JUSTIN

I won’t fight you.

MISTRAL confused at first and roars angrily. Firing more beams of her magic at JUSTIN.

MISTRAL

FIGHT ME!

She kept firing until he was nearly more encased in ice. 

JUSTIN

I won’t… (He shudders)

He held onto the suffering of ice when EDITH finally showed up and seeing the two together.

EDITH

Violet… 

MISTRAL turns realizing it was EDITH.

MISTRAL

No, no, no, no. 

She wails again and EDITH rushes over.

EDITH

Please… come back to me. (She holds her crystalized face)

MISTRAL

I’m sorry… 

EDITH

I know. I forgive you. We forgive you. Please come back!

MISTRAL’S had cracked it’s perfected crystalline features. Creating heartache within her cold heart. 

MISTRAL

Please forgive me for this.

She steps away from EDITH without doing her any harm toward her. Moving toward the pool and grabbing a water pouch under her cloak. She fills it and closes the cap on it and looks at EDITH one more time.

EDITH

Please…

Tears fall and sadness is made… 

MISTRAL

I’m sorry.

As she places the water pouch on under her cloak and she disappears to the shadowy dimension. Her last action, leaves a figurative crack in her heart, as she left her. In sadness and tears, EDITH didn’t know what to do at that point. As JUSTIN nearly encased in ice can only look on as a bystander. 

FADE TO BLACK END OF EPISODE 10

[waywardanchorgladiator]

PARRHESIA

.

.

.

Elisabeth Murdoch is afraid.

Elisabeth Murdoch is afraid of losing her empire.

Three related threats

One parrhesiastes

In ancient Greek parrhesia meant "to speak everything" and in ancient Hebrew the word evolved to mean "in face of the public.“ [1] The Parrhesiastes is the person who says everything. [2] (…) The speaker uses his freedom and chooses frankness instead of persuasion, truth instead of falsehood or silence, the risk of death instead of life and security, criticism instead of flattery, and moral duty instead of self-interest and moral apathy. [3] So you see, the parrhesiastes is someone who takes a risk. [4] This is the parrhesiastic discourse and standpoint in philosophy: it is the discourse of the irreducibility of truth, power, and ethos, and at the same time the discourse of their necessary relationship, of the impossibility of thinking aletheia, politeia, and ethos without their essential, fundamental relationship to each other. [5]

“I am afraid, Father. [6] I want to confess myself to you, have mercy, a devil is devouring my bowels! [7] Since the moment when I first came to feel what grandeur and perfection are, I find myself admitted to an advantage which may well bring one to despair: that of measuring the extent of these qualities. [8] This other world of knowledge, beauty, love or despair, I will only enter this true world, more real than real, guided by the happenstance of my wanderings in the wide open, between the mad laughs or the more frequent mad tears. [9] I never thought I had found a human ship going down in an ocean of despair, in a Sargasso of impotence. [10] In madness, (…) I myself am no longer normal, I lose my reason. [11]

I am afraid, Father. [12] 

We rule over the entire globe by means of words; with easy effort we acquire for ourselves through trade all the treasures of the earth by means of words. [13] Forgetting nature; did this amnesia make us blind to the world? Hominization makes us forgetful; did this very forgetfulness hominize us? We became so historical, cultural and then personal that we obliterated with diverse codes the gigantic duration preceding these group and individual memories, which are narrow, not very reliable, thundering. We keep our nature, which obeys and remains silent, on a leash. From time to time it barks and growls, but language, technology and knowledge flog it, bring it into subjection, calm it down. Not always. Just as a written advertising poster erases the landscape’s muteness, a meaningful word annihilates millions of carnal years. [14] And now they want change. Father, they want to bring down the empire you’ve built. I am not sure where I am anymore. [15]

Ever after, people would say: Murdochs, liars all. [16]“

THREATS

Aletheia.

This notion has a long history in the ancient wisdom and legal practices of Greece. [17] Yet today we translate aletheia as truth, even though it only used to express that renown sung of by Homer, whose narratives staged the sailor’s ruses and the warrior’s courage. [18] The new truth was set in opposition there to the ancient aletheia, that is to say, to collective glory, to the publics belief in the exploits of this person or that person, exploits sustained by dramatic facts, dense with sensationalism, terror and pity. [19] In other words, unconcealment or aletheia—this trinity of being present, being something, and omniscience—is not a matter of Platonic philosophy, but rather the bequest of the vocalic alphabet; although invented after the Iliad, it preceded the Odyssey. [20] To lead a “true life” will thus mean: to lead an entirely public and exposed life (the unhidden), an existence of destitution and complete poverty (the pure), a radically wild and animal life (the straight), and manifesting an unlimited sovereignty (the immutable). [21] And the value of truth in general, which always implies the presence of the signified (aletheia or adequatio), far from dominating this movement and allowing it to be thought, is only one of its epochs, however privileged. [22]

Politeia.

The rule of law, of course, presupposes complete legality, but this is not enough: if a law gave the government unlimited power to act as it pleased, all its actions would be legal, but it would certainly not be under the rule of law. [23] When a tribunal or authority acquits or sentences a defendant, two fundamental things change: time and truth. [24] For more than social movements the question of justice is a question of temporality: justice is now, justice is against deferral; the space of deferral is the space of destructive violence. [25] Justice is founded on prescription. [26] And justice makes no inquiries. [27] What has to be arranged and calculated are the return effects of punishment on the punishing authority and the power that it claims to exercise. [28] Unfortunately it doesn’t do justice to the beauty and elegance of this extraordinary mechanism that fuels most of life. [29] Over time, all opposites will be destroyed through the work of justice, leading to a final state devoid of opposites. [30] Unlike physical reality, all mental reality is aimed at some object: to see is to see something; to judge is to judge some object; to love is to love someone or something. [31] Continuous adaptation, not equilibrium, is the rule. [32]

Ethos.

We set out from real, active human beings, and on the basis of their real life process we demonstrate the development of the ideological reflexes and echoes of this life process. The phantoms formed in the human brain are also, necessarily, sublimates of their material life process, which is empirically verifiable and bound to material premises. Morality religion, metaphysics, all the rest of ideology and their corresponding forms of consciousness, thus no longer retain their semblance of independence. [33] The bourgeoisie is constantly absorbing into its ideology a whole section of humanity which does not have its basic status and cannot live up to it except in imagination, that is, at the cost of an immobilization and an impoverishment of consciousness. [34] Consciousness is no longer special, but just a special case of the relation between part and whole. [35] Temporality simply refers to the simultaneously concealed (or “past”) character of entities and their revealed (or “future”) aspect combining into a single ambiguous present. [36] One can always say that it is just a matter of foggy talk and ideology, nothing but ideology. [37] This means neither that we can do without ideology nor that science is more valuable than ideology. [38] Ideology is not just in your head. [39] It is neither a history of mentality, nor of behaviour. [40]“But they have not yet triumphed; this is the moment when the Antichrist, filled with rage, will command the killing of Enoch and Elijah and the exposure of their bodies for all to see and thus be afraid of imitating them. [41] Yet this is not the way to deal with parrhesia. Such isn’t. It will be necessary for me to hear their voices (…). [42] I build a palace in Paris to invite and meet them, to drink and eat with them, not forgetting to always keep the scepter. I want to hear them sing and make them dance. [43] And if everyone finds it as authoritative as I do, I am confident it will convince any adversary that I may have. [44]“

CHAMBERS

Paris is the synonym of Cosmos, Paris is Athens, Sybaris, Jerusalem, Pantin. [45] The taste of Paris has shown itself concordant with that of Athens.’ Given this normative cohesion of rational and emotive values over two thousand years, the writer, the architect, the painter of public scenes can imitate originally. [46] For nothing must be flattered, not even a great people; where there is everything there is also ignominy by the side of sublimity; and, if Paris contains Athens, the city of light, Tyre, the city of might, Sparta, the city of virtue, Nineveh, the city of marvels, it also contains Lutetia, the city of mud. [47] The same Homer, who pleased at Athens and Rome two thousand years ago, is still admired at Paris (…). [48] And in that sense, it could be a universal substitute (…), [49] a new place for the parrhesiates. The best words to express these requirements are those of the French Revolution: Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite. [50] The face of the French Revolution is the contemporary face of parrhesia, with Liberte corresponding to aletheia, Egalite to politeia and Fraternite to ethos.

An Egyptian temple does not belong in Athens or a Greek one in Memphis or, for that matter, in Paris: One may build very elegant, very well lighted Greek temples for the purpose of assembling the good people of Saint Louis and causing them to worship a metaphysical God, but they will always long for these Notre Dame of Paris (…). [51] And it is Notre Dame the people are besieging. [52] For sure the palace, just opposite on the other side of ‚La Saine’, will have its proper presence.

“How can I describe that palace? This palace must be the work of the gods.“

(…) Every building must have a locality, area, compartition, wall, roof, and opening. [53] According to the first quantity, and then to the measures. Such is order. According to the correspondence of the measures. Such is compartition, or to use. Such is distribution. [54] A (…) palace should be sited in the city center, should be of easy access, and should be gracefully decorated, elegant, and refined, rather than ostentatious. [55]

The palace is meticulously planned and invented as a strategic, invisible, subtle and elegant weapon to entirely take control over the occurring in the house and as manner of protection. The palace resembles a chess board, but with the individual fields designed and planned in favor of the host. The whole force of the invention (…) is required in the compartition: because the distinct parts of the entire building, and, to use such a word, the entireness of each of those parts, and the union and agreement of all the lines and angles in the work, duly ordered for convenience, pleasure and beauty, are disposed and measured out by the compartition. [56] The compartition provides the host to be in control of the way the guests move around in the palace. Each room is not only distinctively formed, but also uniquely clad. Despite the density and opacity of the construction, one experiences the interior of the building as a sequence of linings. Like slipping in and out of fine dinner jackets, lining succeeds lining. (…) A person’s experience of the palace can differ greatly, depending on whether he or she is actively moving “roving” through the palace or passively seated. The “roving subject“ is further privileged by the freedom to gaze and peer across boundaries, permitted even visual access to the landscape beyond the shell of the building, whereas anyone stationary within has a far more limited experience because the rooms are often bounded in ways that reduce or eliminate such visual connectivity. [57]

Muthesius talks about the constructing of a second hidden way to move through the house, what was intended for servants to execute their work, dwell or basically to exist invisibly in the same house. This hidden movement through the palace, provides the one who knows it with the possibility of a much more controlled movement and the effect of surprise and mystification. Movement, driven by such compartition, is one of the principal beauties of architecture. The effect of protruding parts is called movement in architecture. A naked wall is without movement. If one adds to this wall an entablature, pilastres, doors, windows, frames, it acquires movement; because one perceives parts that advance, and others that retreat; some that are covered, others that are left open; all this produces parts that are shadowed, and others that are lit; light and shadow. [...] Movement becomes most intense when columns, arches and pillars are free standing, and one discovers peristyles and porticos. This disposition offers to the viewer the sight of openings, recesses, perspectives, and the aspects are then even more varied, either according to the varying projection of light, or according to the changing position of the viewer. [58]

The facade, the walls, the roof and the openings support the strategy. In very certain positions the walls and the roof are constructed in a way that, depending where you seat your guests, you can eavesdrop to their conversation even if they whistle. Furthermore the walls, in interaction with the light, deceive the distances and thus the dimensions of objects and persons in a very subtle and precisely planned manner. The attic is set back from the facade, also to be hidden to the guests and that it remains uncertain how many stories the palace has. (…) It recalls the facades of the slightly earlier Rucellai Palace in Florence, and the roughly contemporary palace of Pius II in Pienza. [59] It should also have beams, capitals, and other such ornaments. [60] The rarity and beauty of the stone itself will add greatly to the ornament; as for instance, if it is that sort of marble, with which we are told Nero built a temple to fortune in his golden palace, which was so white, so clear and transparent, that even when all the doors were shut the light seemed to be enclose within the temple. [61]

In this building, precision in architecture was to be used as a political weapon and an expression of divine majesty. [62]

“Father, it would be better if I hear them sing and make them dance. [63]“

[1] Forensic Architecture, Forensis The Architecture of Public Truth. [2] Michael Foucault, The Courage of the Truth. [3] Michael Foucault, Fearless Speech. [4] Michael Foucault, Fearless Speech. [5] Michael Foucault, The Courage of the Truth. [6] Eco, The Name of the Rose. [7] Eco, The Name of the Rose. [8] Harrison Wood Gaiger, Art in Theory 1648 1815. [9] Serres, Biogea. [10] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus. [11] Zizek, Less Than Nothing. [12] Eco, The Name of the Rose. [13] Harrison Wood Gaiger, Art in Theory 1648 1815. [14] Serres, The Incandescent. [15] Morton, Hyperobjects. [16] Calasso, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony. [17] Henaff, The Price of Truth. [18] Serres, Hominescence. [19] Serres, Hominescence. [20] Kittler, The Truth of the Technological World. [21] Foucault, The Courage of the Truth. [22] Derrida, Of Grammatology. [23] Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty. [24] Serres, History of Scientific Thought. [25] Braidotti Hlavajova, Posthuman Glossary. [26] Buehlmann, Mathematics and Information in the Philosophy of Michel Serres. [27] Hugo, Les Miserables. [28] Foucault, Discipline and Punish. [29] West, Scale The Universal Laws of Growth. [30] Harman, Bells and Whistles. [31] Harman, Bells and Whistles. [32] West, Scale The Universal Laws of Growth. [33] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968. [34] Barthes, Mythologies. [35] Harman, Towards Speculative Realism. [36] Harman, Bells and Whistles. [37] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus. [38] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968. [39] Morton, Hyperobjects. [40] Deleuze, Foucault. [41] Eco, The Name of the Rose. [42] Serres, Biogea. [43] Hugo, Les Miserables. [44] Mallgrave, Architectural Theory. [45] Hugo, Les Miserables. [46] Steiner, After Babel Aspects of Language and Translation. [47] Hugo, Les Miserables. [48] Harrison Wood Gaiger, Art in Theory 1648 1815. [49] Foucault, History of Madness. [50] Wiener, The Human Use Of Human Beings. [51] Frankl, The Gothic. [52] Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris. [53] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988. [54] Williams, Daniele Barbaros Vitruvius of 1567. [55] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988. [56] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755. [57] Leatherbarrow Eisenschmidt, Twentieth Century Architecture. [58] Van Eck, Eighteenth Century Architecture. [59] Bork, Late Gothic Architecture. [60] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988. [61] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755. [62] Cruickshank, A History of Architecture in 100 Buildings. [63] Hugo, Les Miserables.

[leesacrakon]

(Fic) A Thousand Years

Request by @timeprincesscosplay

This was previously posted on Fanfiction.net. It’s a songfic for A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. I hope you all enjoy it! 

Fandom: Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children

Ship (if any): Enolive

Words: 3,323

Olive's heart beat rapidly as she hid behind the door frame of Enoch's basement bedroom, watching him as he worked tirelessly over his newest creation. His pale face was fixed into its usual scowl, making his handsome face seem dark. His raven curls hung in front of his brooding eyes, partially covering them and the dark rings that surrounded them. Olive fidgeted nervously with her gloves, debating whether or not to join the grumpy boy she loved more than just a friend.

She was afraid, to be honest. Although Olive loved Enoch with all of her heart, for everything that he was, she was afraid. Not of Enoch exactly, nor his anger, but of what could happen if he ever discovered her true feelings. She could lose him. Olive didn't think that Enoch would ever realize he loved her; she doubted he even saw her as a friend like she had for years, and that saddened her more than words could describe. Olive was just Enoch's pesky assistant, the person in the background that handed him his tools and occasionally tried to speak to him. Olive's lip began to quiver and she started to leave, when Enoch growled in anger and threw the grotesque doll against the wall. Olive almost let out a small squeal of surprise, but she quickly put a hand over her mouth to muffle it.

When Olive peeked back into the room, her eyes filled with tears. Enoch was breathing hard, his eyes wide as he tangled his fingers in his dark locks. His elbows rested on the desk in front of him, his arms and shoulders shaking as he stared blankly at the ebony wood. When Olive listened closely, she could hear soft sobs and sniffles coming from the usually stoic and emotionless boy. She continued to watch him as he tried to hold back tears, his lip quivering and his body shaking. Olive wanted to go in and hug him tight, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and hold him until he stopped crying, but she couldn't Enoch would never let her.

"I must've done something... scared her away... God, I'm so stupid," Enoch said in a soft voice, letting a tear slip. Olive blinked in surprise and wiped her eyes, removing the tears that had started to gather on her eyelids. Who was Enoch talking about? It couldn't have been her, he didn't care about her one bit. Maybe it was Miss Peregrine? The two had been close ever since Enoch entered the loop. But Olive had a feeling that it wasn't their mentor that Enoch was talking about. He had done nothing to scare her away. Olive was snapped out of her thoughts when Enoch let out a muffled sob, getting up from the desk and picking the broken doll up from the floor. He looked at it for a moment before gritting his teeth and tearing it apart bit by bit, throwing the parts here and there. Olive bit her lip as he destroyed his creation with a sorrowful expression, and her mind was made up. She slowly stepped into the room, saying nothing at first as Enoch's arms hung limply at his sides, one hand clutching the remains of the doll tightly.

"Enoch? Are you alright?" Olive said in a whisper, and the boy whirled around. Enoch's eyes immediately widened when he saw her and he dropped the doll, rushing forward and enveloping Olive in a tight embrace. She gasped in surprise at the sudden show of affection and almost pulled away, but she quickly noted the trembling of Enoch's body as he held her close, his hug awkward and unpracticed but still affectionate. Olive felt the boy's tears on her neck and shoulder and her arms quickly wrapped around his torso, sealing them together for what seemed like a matter of seconds. When Enoch pulled away his left hand lingered on her shoulder, and tears still glistened on his cheeks.

"Sorry... I just... I thought you weren't coming, and... uh... sorry," Enoch muttered, keeping his eyes cast down. Olive's heart fluttered in her chest and she blushed lightly, giving her friend a sweet smile. "It's alright. Do you need my help?" she replied, and Enoch's lips curved upward a little. He nodded and sat back down at his desk, pulling his box of parts closer towards him and beckoning for her to join his side. The day went on as usual, Olive handing Enoch his tools when he asked for them, dealing with his occasional anger, and using her flames to light his work space as he worked late into the night. Enoch may not have loved her, but Olive was his friend, and she couldn't have been happier.

Olive loved Enoch, but sometimes he was so cruel and hard to deal with that she would just sit in her room and cry for hours. Today was one of those days unfortunately, and Olive sat on her bed, watching glumly as a few flames danced across her palms. She didn't want to think about what had happened, about the anger and hatred that rolled off of Enoch in waves as he yelled at her that day. She honestly didn't know why she even bothered trying. He would sometimes give her a ghost of a smile, or even pat her hand affectionately when she gave him a compliment or a grin, but those moments were far and in between. Olive was starting to think that none of it was really worth it anymore. Enoch would never love her, or care for her, no matter what Olive did.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?! I never asked for you to help me!" Enoch snarled, his face inches away from Olive's as he sneered at her. Olive's lip quivered but she said nothing, looking Enoch in the eye as best as she could. Enoch growled in frustration and shoved her away, towards the door, as if telling her to get out. Olive held firm, even going as far as to fold her arms across her chest as she returned his glare in full. Enoch's face blanked, as if he hadn't expected for her to be so defiant, but his angry look soon returned.

The slap came out of nowhere. The sound of it echoed through the basement, and Olive's head had snapped to the side at the force of it. Her cheek stung and smarted horribly, and her eyes filled with tears. Tears of pain, surprise, fear, and heartbreak. Enoch looked just as shocked as Olive felt, his mouth hanging open slightly and his hand still suspended in the air, shaking slightly. Enoch quickly turned back to his work,looking at everything but Olive. The poor girl had burst into tears and run back to her room, unaware of the tears that Enoch too had begun to shed.

Enoch was absolutely beastly to her, but Olive still loved him. Oh, her love for him was endless! He was a genius in his own right, and could be so kind when he wanted to. He was handsome and sharp-looking, almost like an older version of Millard and Horace put together. Olive loved him ever since she first laid eyes on him. She could see the pain Enoch hid behind his eyes, the emotion, the power. It entranced her and drew her to him like a magnet. Yes, Olive loved Enoch, and she wouldn't stop loving him anytime soon.

Olive had somehow managed to get Enoch to come outside into the light. He blinked blindly at first, not really used to the brightness of the sun, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Olive watched him with curiosity as his gaze lingered over each of the peculiars as they went about their daily activities. Olive noticed that his eyes lingered the longest over Hugh and Millard, who were playing their usual game of keep-away with a ball. His eyes seemed to hold a bit of longing, and Olive smiled as he tilted his head slightly.

"You should join them. They'd be happy to have you," Olive encouraged. Enoch's expression immediately changed to one of boredom and he looked away from the two younger boys playing. Olive noticed how stiff he was, and the way he nibbled slightly on his bottom lip. He wanted to join them, she could tell, but he was either too scared or just being his stubborn self. She cautiously went to his side, peering at his face and smiling.

"Come on," Olive said, pushing forward Enoch slightly. Enoch glanced back at her and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and walked towards the other two boys. He weaved through the other peculiars, avoiding the twins as they rushed past him and Fiona as she grew a new hedge in the garden. Olive smiled at him encouragingly when he looked back uncertainly, and she gestured for him to keep going. She watched with a soft smile as Hugh and Millard enthusiastically allowed Enoch to play with them, giving him the ball and waiting for him to start.

Enoch stumbled about clumsily at first, constantly losing the ball to the younger boys and even almost falling flat on his face. Olive giggled at those moments, and her smile brightened when Enoch finally got a hang of the game. He kept the ball away from the two and even taunted them occasionally, sticking his tongue out at them or letting them have the ball for a quick second before snagging it back. Enoch actually looked happy. About halfway through their game, Enoch started to run farther out into the yard, grinning from ear to ear. Hugh had given up, but Millard continued to chase Enoch relentlessly. Enoch cried out as he foot caught on the root of one of the trees that Fiona grew and he fell forward, flying into the grass. He slid forward and laid completely still, unmoving and appearing unconscious on the ground.

"ENOCH!" Hugh, Millard, and Olive screeched, rushing to his side and turning him over. His eyes were rolled in the back of his head and he hung limp in Olive's arms as she tried to hold him up. Olive started to panic, lightly patting Enoch's face in an attempt to wake him. Enoch's head just lulled to the side, and Olive gasped softly in shock. "Is he alright?" Hugh asked weakly, leaning down until he was so close to Enoch's face he could have pressed a kiss to his forehead. Olive was about to reply when Enoch suddenly sprung to life, launching himself forward and tackling Hugh and Millard to the ground. Hugh and Millard both shrieked in surprise, the wind knocked out of them as they were pinned to the ground. Enoch grinned.

And he then was laughing. It was the kind of laugh that a person who hadn't had a good laugh in a while would sound like. It was loud and breathless, and Enoch's entire face was bright red. His body was positively shaking from the force of his laughter, and there were even tears in his eyes. The other three soon joined in, laughing happily along with their friend. People say that when you smile, you appear more attractive. Olive could say, with every fiber of her being, that Enoch definitely fit that description. After all her attempts to make Enoch smile, after all the jokes and funny memories she told him, Enoch was finally laughing and happy.

"Olive! Olive!" Enoch shouted with panic, shaking the frozen girl on the ground. He knew it was effortless, but she couldn't be dead. His wonderful, sweet Olive couldn't be dead. Her skin was cold, too cold. The ice was spread over her skin, encasing her completely in ice. Olive, Enoch's beautiful Olive, was dead. Enoch couldn't sense her heartbeat, couldn't feel her pulse. Enoch's grip on Olive's shoulder tightened and he looked down, his expression solemn. All these years they'd been together, and he never realized how he felt, how she felt. He'd been so stupid...

"I'm so sorry, Olive. All these years I never appreciated you. I didn't see how lucky I was. I got so used to having you there, I never realized..." Enoch's voice trailed off and he choked back a sob. He was such an idiot, he never realized how much Olive meant to him, and how much he really did love her. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ice cold quickly pulled away, not wanting to linger any longer than he had to on Olive's dead lips. He was too late. He bowed his head, his shoulders beginning to shake.

Olive's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Enoch with a soft smile. She softly called his name as his head shot up, his eyes wide. Olive tilted her head with curiosity; what had she missed? She felt cold, the others were gathered around them in a circle, and Enoch looked like he was about to cry. She began to ask him just exactly what he'd realized when he hugged her tight to his chest, burying his face in the crook of her neck and sobbing.

It wasn't the sort of embrace you would give to a friend, or even a sibling, but the sort of embrace that lovers would exchange. Olive's mouth formed an "o" and she wrapped her arms around Enoch's neck, nuzzling into his soft hair. As Enoch cried softly into her neck, Olive gently stroked the back of his head, giving his cheek or forehead the occasional kiss. She didn't know what changed between them, or if anything had changed at all, but she was happy.

"What did you never realize, Enoch?" Enoch looked up from the book he was reading to see Olive standing in the door. His heart skipped a beat when his gaze ghosted over Olive's vibrant red hair, bright eyes, and familiar smile. He couldn't bring himself to answer her, the sound of the water hitting the side of the boat as they sat in silence being the only sound. Olive hesitated before sitting beside Enoch on his bed, gently taking one of Enoch's hands in her own and intertwining their fingers. Enoch stared at their clasped hands for a moment, his face falling.

"W-What do you mean, Olive?" Enoch stammered, pulling his hand from hers and hoping that he wasn't blushing. Olive's expression saddened and she folded her hands across her lap, looking down at them. "When I was frozen, I heard you say 'I never realized'. I woke up and everyone was standing all around us, and you looked so sad. What did you never realize?" Olive explained simply. Now Enoch knew he was blushing, but his lips were beginning to quiver and his eyes began to glisten as well. He looked away, staring blankly at the wall, and tried to fight back tears.

"I'm so sorry Olive. I never treated you like I should have. You've only ever shown kindness to me, and I'm a downright beast to you. I... I've insulted you, hit you, made fun of you... And all this time, you loved me. I never realized how terrible I was, and how much I care about you," he whispered, his grip on the blankets beneath him tightening. A tear rolled down his cheek and he breathed shakily, his shoulders trembling. Olive quickly got up and knelt in front of him, grabbing his hands and holding them to her chest. She was so moved by his confession, which was so sweet and honest that it seemed like her fire was roaring in her veins.

"Don't be sorry, Enoch. I was happy to be there for you. Just being there so you weren't lonely was enough for me," Olive said earnestly, making Enoch cry harder. He started to sob and he pulled his hands away from her, covering his face with them so Olive couldn't see his tears. Self-hatred and guilt radiated from him in waves, and Olive felt tears of her own gathering in her eyes. Enoch was shaking so much Olive could feel the tremors under her fingers as she rested her hands on his knees, and she had enough. She shot to her feet and grabbed Enoch's hands, yanking him towards her so that their faces were only inches apart. Olive could see each tears as it fell, and the soft sniffles and sobs were louder and more real.

"Shut up, Enoch. Don't blame yourself for things you can't control. You're a wonderful person if you want to be, your peculiarity is amazing, and... a-and you're extremely handsome! So stop blaming yourself and... just kiss me!" Olive said, her voice bold. Enoch stiffened, and he seemed to finally realize just how close they were. His eyes fell to Olive's light red lips and then back up to her eyes. His gaze softened and he wiped the tears that were sliding on her cheeks with his thumb. He let his hand linger there, cupping the side of her face as he gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. His heart was racing, and he couldn't believe this was really happening; his first kiss...

Enoch's eyes fluttered closed and he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips softly against Olive's. Olive's breathing hitched and she wrapped her arms around Enoch's neck, pulling him closer to her and returning the kiss sweetly. Enoch snaked his hands around Olive's waist, making the girl shiver. Her lips were soft and moist and tasted salty, maybe from her tears, but it wasn't an unpleasant taste. Olive moaned softly when Enoch shyly lipped her bottom lip, asking for her permission to enter. Olive quickly granted his request, letting Enoch explore her mouth. He was surprising dominate and passionate, his grip around her waist tightening as he moved his lips against hers.

Olive's grip went from around his neck to grab the front of his shirt and she could feel herself beginning to tremble. Enoch loved her. He was kissing her, so sweetly and passionately that her legs felt like jelly. Enoch pulled her from where she was standing onto the bed, still kissing her deeply as he hovered over her. Olive laced her fingers in his hair and he moaned softly against her lips, his arms trembling slightly. They separated after what seemed like an eternity, both of them gasping for breath. Olive was shocked to see that there were still a few stray tears flowing from Enoch's lashes, but the smiling that accompanied them helped her feel more at ease.

"God, I love you, Olive," Enoch breathed, settling down next to her and burying his face in her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist in an almost possessive and protective way. Olive chuckled softly and ran her fingers through Enoch's hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Enoch smiled, his eyes closed, and he let out a sigh of content. "It took you long enough. I love you too," Olive replied softly. Their lips briefly met once, twice, three more times before they fell asleep in each others arms, a smile on both of their faces.