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#i actually hope you lead a fulfilling life filled with friends and happiness. but please be better about this shit.
weezeryuri · 3 months
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the followup ask wasn't me but otherwise yep, right person! "privacy"? the privacy of posting about me for a year straight, on a public account, on a public site, surrounded by peers? on the account MY friend was ~mutuals~ with you on, where he had to see you shittalking me on his dash weekly? the privacy of misinterpreting every thing i said to you so you can hide your (justifiably) hurt feelings behind "Actually ableism is the fault of all of this!"? the privacy of painting me as an ableist, as your Gross Icky Pr*ship Ex Friend, trying to get everyone to pity you, be on your side, because "it was an ugly friend breakup" won't justify the extent of your feelings (IT WOULD), in your head? THE PRIVACY OF DECRYING ME AS AN "INCEST SHIPPER" (NOT EVEN TRUE)???? i wasn't even looking at your blog in the first place, i heard secondhand, that's how ignorant and obvious your comments were. your words and Ideas about someone (that you Literally Are publically crying out) don't exist in a vacuum, they MEAN something, and other people will hear them. or did you care about decrying your Beloved Exfriend, Older [Sister] Figure as this and that hurtful thing and the impact of it as much as you cared about the friendship i was struggling and reaching out a hand (that i never Needed or Expected you to reply to) to maintain and let live and, I Dunno, Not let you be isolated in an echo chamber of your own anxiety forever? the attempted friendship that you valued less than venting on tumblr all day long? that you valued as much as listening to your two remaining friends that were trying to help you? but have fun believing me checking in on you for months on end, encouraging you when you Were capable of saying anything, waiting for you no matter what, trying to involve you in our lives so you weren't permanantly stuck in 2021 alone and unloved and unheard, and sending you paragraph after paragraph of apology and clarification to clean up the mess i made... was just ableism. i hope you enjoy never thinking about it, never rereading what i said, and pinning every shitty thing i did on Must be cause i'm oppressed, and living without the nuance you claim to use. i hope you enjoy crying about it publically to people you only talk to indirectly, to people who will never get to know you directly, because you've made your stance on any closeness or attempts at it deathly clear. i hope you keep whining that i'm only "ableist", and i hope nobody truly hears you, like it has been for the last year. rot in your own refusal to change
Jesus Christ man you do realize you said some horrendous and ableist shit to me (i still have screencaps before you go calling me a lying piece of shit) and have actively gone out of my way to block you and anyone who interacts with you on here.
you took advantage of my sadness at a very vulnerable time and used that to fight with me over shipping discourse because i dared to imply i’m scared of a group directly connected to my groomers
you need to fucking get your shit together because the way you’re acting is pathetic and the shit you did was horrible and you have no right to decide what and what isn’t ableist. of course it isn’t ableist to you. nobody ever gives a shit unless we’re directly being called useless cripples.
grow the fuck up and leave my life entirely. you did not try to involve me in your lives, you messaged me at 3 am telling me all my problems were my fault such as using cases of my chronic fatigue to paint me as lazy and careless. and then said you didn’t like me since 2020.
i GRIEVED our friendship. you hurt me over the dumbest shit when i was at our most vulnerable when i thought i could trust you. it was performative at best and actively hateful at the worst. you used words from a private vent blog to make me feel like shit
“wow cripple you didn’t suck up your fatigue and talk to me? you must hate me so much and want us all dead and think I’m a predator and and and etc etc”
this is my blog and i can post about whatever the fuck i want. i never mentioned your name or where to find you. please go the fuck away because now i can just confirm this is an act of purposeful malice and it hurts. i trusted you so much.
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angieowlie · 5 months
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Happy 2024!~!! ☺️
Hope your new year has gone off to a kind, gentle start <3
This year my main goal is to pace myself. In all aspects of life, including writing, working, exercising, and resting. I've been thinking a lot about what I want my day-to-day life to look like, and I've drafted a rough schedule of what I would like to follow.
I feel as though the stress of the holidays has fallen away and, with it, the emergence of the bright new start of January have slowly eased away my winter blues. I feel safe and rested and ready to write regularly again, to come back to where I left off and return to the story like returning to a warm group of friends. I've been allowing myself space to write little drabbles of whatever comes to mind, not thinking too much of grammar and wording, only of creating a small piece of happiness before I start the day.
Despite the (freezing) weather that is Canada, I've been bundling myself up and driving to my favourite park and making sure I get out of the house for a breath of fresh air, even just 15 mins. Slowly, it's begun to do wonders for my mental health and I feel myself, well, feeling like myself again.
Working from home is amazing, but sometimes you feel trapped by the walls of your room and the walls of your mind. That's why I've been coaxing myself to go outside, even just for a bit, because it does help. I often worry about wasting gas or catching a cold or what-have-you, but all of that pale in comparison to looking after my mental health.
I realized last year that, because I've gotten to know my bbs more now, I actually feel like redoing parts of vol 3's plot XD So that's what I'll do after finishing up my current task of editing vol 2 draft 2. I also want to start brainstorming vol 4, mostly because I've been editing and rewriting since September of 2022, and, creatively, I am yearning to write something new X'D It's fulfilling to go back and polish up a draft, of course, but I do miss the magical feeling of coming up with something new. The excitement and wondrous joy of discovering where a new plotline will lead to, you know?
Towards the end of 2023, I began reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin and, oh my goodness, it's now my creative bible (after Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way Every Day). It's filled with such gentle words of wisdom and, like, permission to just create and have fun.
I also reread the first 2 volumes of The Dangerous Convenience Store, and my most joyous discovery is that the fandom has nicknamed Gunwoo as "Ah-juicy" 🤣 I have the Mandarin version from Taiwan, so I had no idea what the English fandom was up to. That being said, still no word of the other volumes being translated in Taiwan 😭 pLEASE put me out of my misery, I need to know what happens next!!
I also started watching (of all things) All Creatures Great and Small, and it is just the wholesomest show ever! (The 2020 version.) Peaceful village life and cuddly animals~ Sigh~ Yes please~
Anyway, I hope this year you read and write and create things that make you happy! And look after your mental and physical health. And drink lots of water! And look at stars. And laugh big deep belly laughs. And accomplish one goal on your list (you can do it! 💕)
Until next time, here's to more magic 🧚🏻‍♂️✨✨
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The Next Chapter (c.h)
Pairing: Calum Hood X Reader
Requested: yes!
Summary: A family gathering has you and Calum thinking about the future
Warnings: Fluff. I used the word vagina once. Maybe some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, sorry)
Word Count: 1.7K
Author’s Note: Loving these request 🥺❤️ a little fluffy piece for my favorite boy ✨ Remember that Reblogs, comments, feedback and likes are very important and appreciated ❤️ I love to hear from you guys and you don’t know how much that helps me and motivates me! Hope you like it and Happy Reading🦋✨🌻
My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?
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Anon: omg can you do one ab asking if cal wants to start a family
“Babe! Hurry we are going to be late!”
You were standing at the front door, looking inside of your bag in case you have forgotten anything.
“Y/N, you do know I went to the bathroom five minutes before you were done getting ready, right?” Your husband, Calum, said as he walked up to you.
You had to admit, you married the hottest guy on the planet. How can someone make a pair of jeans with a simple white shirt look so good?!
“But I still beat you at the door, didn’t I?” You asked with a grin that Calum easily reciprocated.
“That you did” He smiled, placing one hand at your side, kissing your template, and whispering in your ear “But that doesn’t mean you can beat me at the car” And with that, he started sprinting towards the driver’s seat.
It amazes you how after almost 7 years of relationship you never got over the honeymoon phase. You have met Calum when both of you were young, reckless, and stupid; and not looking for a relationship. But it only took one look at those brown eyes and you were hooked.
You still remember how he came to you with a lame excuse to talk to you at one of the many parties you used to crash with your best friends.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” He said, and you almost thought he discovered you and was going to call security “I’m pretty sure god will wonder where all of their angels went”
He quickly apologized once he realized the words that fell out of his mouth, but you just stood there giggling at this cute attempt of flirting. And, as they say, the rest was history.
The next couple of years came and went and it almost seemed like you were in some kind of an alternate reality where everything played out as it was supposed to. Yes, of course, there were rocky times, especially when distance came to play, but all those times just made your relationship stronger.
Neither of you knew why, but being together just felt right. Which ultimately came to him proposing one eventful night in August after visiting his parents in Australia. And that then leads to your wedding just a few months later, you still recall that as one of the happiest moments of your life.
That was 3 years ago, and you were proud to say that you got to marry your best friend. Every day felt like a never-ending slumber party with new adventures and dreams to fulfill. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.
You were thinking about it as of now, looking at Calum with a smile as he drove to your cousin’s place to celebrate the birthday of the newest addition to the family: your baby niece.
Going to these kinds of parties became pretty regular for you, given that you came from a really big family and all your cousins were almost the same age as you, so they started popping babies out like it was nothing! And you were so thankful Calum was always happy to come along “I love your family, Angel!” He said “And you have to give it to them, they know how to throw a party”
It was true. If there is something your family doesn’t take lightly is parties. You still get a headache every time you remember the stress of convincing them to do something lowkey for your wedding. And as you parked outside your cousin’s house you wonder how you actually did it.
“Wow,” Said Calum as he looked at all the balloons decorating the front door “They really went all out on this one” He laughed.
“Sabrina is one year old!” You laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt as Calum opened the door for you “She won’t even remember this!”
“Yeah.. but at least Aunt Bridget will get to brag about having real mariachis playing at the party”
“Real maria-?” You asked, but Calum was already trying to hold his laughter as he pointed to a mariachi band getting out of their van “Okay, that is new… We are not even from Mexico!”
“No… but mom went to the wedding of Mr. Gómez’s son and she insisted we hired the same band for little Sab’s birthday” Your cousin answered as she opened the door.
You and Calum hugged your cousin before making your way inside the house. You stood in awe as you walked up the backyard and everything was decorated in different shades of pink and purple. Even the family dog had some sort of ribbon around his collar.
“This looks…” You began
“Like if a vagina exploded?” Calum finished for you. You slapped him in the arm playfully, trying so hard not to laugh along with him and be serious.
Your cousin came back a few moments later to hand each of you a drink and inviting you outside to join the party.
*
The mariachis were actually really good, especially when they made Calum have a dance-off with one of your uncles to the chicken dance song. And the rest of the party was also really fun for kids and adults alike.
Now the sun was starting to set and most of your family members decided it was time to call it a day after so many games and dancing. You and Calum, however, decided to stay a little longer since most of your cousins unofficially agreed to have a ‘family-friendly after-party’
You were sitting next to your cousin as you held her baby in your lap, making her dance along with the music.
“You are good at this,” Your cousin said, looking at you and baby Sabrina.
You laughed “It’s not too hard of a job to entertain a baby” And to prove your point, you started making faces at your niece, who started laughing right away.
“It’s not that! You, my dear, have the touch”
“The touch?” She nodded.
“You have that motherly essence, it’s easy for you to engage with the children - they all love you by the way, which is a fact I’m extremely jealous of - And you just have that capacity of love only a parent can understand. C’mon, don’t tell me you and Calum haven’t thought about having a family?”
You drifted your eyes to find Calum amongst the crowd of adults and children.
He was playing soccer with your older nieces and nephews, laughing as he threw himself to the ground on exaggerated acting as the kids scored goal after goal, laughing at your husband’s antics.
And just like that, it was like an image of your future passing by You and Calum sitting in the backyard with Duke running around with your child, playing all sorts of games with you, swimming in the pool, and eating ice cream. Reading bedtime stories as Calum sang them to sleep, him teaching them how to play different instruments and sports, always encouraging them to follow their dreams and passions… Yes, you could get used to that.
“I- I haven’t thought about it” You finally said with a light blush on your cheeks. You didn’t know if it was because of the question, your daydream, or the way Calum was looking and smiling at you.
*
You couldn’t stop thinking about what your cousin said even when you were already in the car and on your way home with Calum humming along with the songs on the radio.
Once you reached your home you started looking around, thinking of all the places you could share with your potential future family; cooking dinner together at night or watching frozen one thousand times on movie night or creating a playroom just for them so they could have their own space to create whatever comes into their minds and-
“You are really quiet, Angel,” Your husband said, interrupting your train of thought “Is everything alright?”
You pressed your lips together in a tight smile and nodded as he came to hug you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder “Did you have fun with the kids today?” You asked cautiously.
Calum chuckled “Yeah… Matthew almost threw me off at one point, he’s getting good at soccer”
“I hope so! His dad told me he started going to practice cause he wants to be a soccer player and a musician like his uncle Cal” You said, pecking your lips in Calum’s red cheek. You could see that he was slightly embarrassed but in a good way. You wonder if your future children will be like that as well.
Maybe they’ll have his cheeks, or your eyes… oh, please let them have Calum’s curly hair.
You smiled to yourself at the thought of little chubby-cheeked curly-haired heads running around your house. They will be perfect and they will be so loved…
Calum hummed next to your ear, placing a little kiss to the shell of it “I know what’s got you all wrapped up in daydream land” He said, hugging you tighter.
You turned your face to look at him “You do?” He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder again.
“Knew it since I saw you looking at me when I was playing with the kids” He placed a kiss on your cheek and made you turn around completely while still holding you by your waist. You swore you could hear the beating of your heart thundering louder and louder.
“And to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I saw you hold a baby”
You blinked at him, confusion written all over your face “What?”
“Well… I knew from the moment I saw you that I wanted to start a family with you. I just confirmed it the day you took me to Matthew’s birthday party to meet your family” He said as a matter-of-factly.
“Yo-you want to start a family with me?” You asked with a flash of hope in your eyes.
Calum smiled at you, his eyes filled with pure adoration “I want to start everything with you, Angel. As long as you let me”
“Do you think we’re ready?”
“I love you, you love me” He said and you nodded with a smile “We’ve been together for 7 years, married for 3; we both have steady jobs, I’m not leaving for tour anytime soon so I’ll be home through every step of the way, we live in a nice house and Duke is more than ready to have a new partner in crime, so… what do you say, love?” Calum said with a cheeky smile.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into a kiss.
“Let’s do it”
Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @theshyspy @talksoprettyjjx @sarcasticallywitty15 @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @Yeah-and69 @mystic-232
*if Your @ is crossed it means I can’t tag you for some reason, please send me a message so we can fix this ✨
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Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 13
Warnings: None
Word count: 1.6k
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It was quiet, too quiet. The voices of your friends and peers had almost disappeared, screams and shouting all but a whisper on the breeze through the spindly trees. You were alone now. At the same time, you weren’t. You could hear the crackling of skin, the rattle as they breathed. The screeches they made as they got close and closer to the opening where you were standing. You knew they could see you, it would only be a matter of time before you could see them too. The bright red core glistening and moving like a flame, inside of their charcoal bodies. Their claws slick with venom, their faces contorted and twisted in pain. You felt no fear. You were oddly calm, sensing that somehow, they couldn’t harm you…. wouldn’t harm you. They moved in closer, branches and dry debris cracking beneath their heavy steps. You could see them now. Shadowy figures creeping out of the darkness and stepping into light. They seemed to regard you with a title of their heads, a look of wonder perhaps? The tallest of them all stepped forward, they were different from the rest.
Taller, much taller, broader. The red core more fierce and prominent. The top of its head almost had horns, that curled round into a kind of crown like shape. It was in front of you now. So close you could feel it’s warm breath fan your face. Your heart stuttered as it screeched out a single word.
“Daughter.”
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You woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, eyes blurry, black swirls of magic surrounding the bed you shared with Saul. Your skin was slick with sweat, a scream escaping your chapped lips. Saul was hovering over you, his hands on either side of your arms, trying to shake you awake from the 3rd nightmare that week. You clung to him desperately as he incased you in his arms. It was still dark out. You’d had a nightmare every night this week so far but you did as you did the other two times, fell back to sleep in your mans arms and were going to ignore it when you woke up.
Morning seemed to come around faster than you wanted it to. You were always too cosy sleeping next to Saul. He was awake and up before you, his teacherly duties leading him away from the confines of your luxurious bed before you had the willpower to peak your eyes open just a fraction.
The morning was met with Bloom complaining again about the treatment of Beatrix. The killer fairy was still in her temporary jail cell, power restricting bracelets still very much around her wrists. You and Aisha shared a look, you rolled your eyes earning a snort from the water fairy and in return a glare from Bloom. She didn’t even know the girl! She thought she now had some sort of weird connection just because she might have been from the same place as her? She seemed to forget that Beatrix did in fact kill Callum to shimmy past Farah’s protective barrier. What she was protecting, you didn’t yet know. You had a feeling Bloom did though.
Stella had filled you in about what was going on back in your old Suit. Bloom was more on edge than ever and had been talking about ways to break the captive fairy free. Was she mad? It was lucky that Aisha and Terra had intervened, otherwise she would have been free by now. They didn’t need the added drama.
Your thoughts were pulled in a different direction as you sat with your friends in the outside courtyard. Aisha, Bloom, Terra and Musa were arguing about how Beatrix getting out would be a bad thing. You and Stella, well you were still just gossiping, catching up as always.
The whispers came all at once. You could see Stella’s mouth moving but you couldn’t actually hear her words, instead your ears were overcome by the whispers of the Burned ones that you knew were outside of the force field. Your eyes could see Specialists running back and forward, something was wrong, the school now seemed to be busy, people were worried and panicked. You noticed Saul off to one side with Farah, Ben and Marco, who…. had been attacked by a burned one by the looks of things. You don’t know what made you stand, but you did, it was like your legs were on autopilot, already aware of your destination even if your brain hadn’t decided yet. Stella kept asking where you were going but it was like you were in a trance. You ignored you friends pushing past them, walking at a steady pace across the grass and in the direction of the woods.
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-Stella’s POV-
Stella was happy to be back at Alfea, even more so now that she knew Y/N was in fact her long lost cousin. Since the beginning she knew she had a special connection with the dark powered fairy, she liked to joke that she was her Yin to her Yang, light and dark.
She’d noticed a difference in her cousins behaviour and well being over the last couple of days. Something that hadn’t gone un-noticed by Silva either, who had in private, asked Stella to keep an eye out for her. Obviously he didn’t have to ask her twice, she naturally felt the need to make sure her cousin was okay anyway. Y/N’s eyes looked heavy, like she hadn’t been sleeping well, it was most likely an effect of the nightmares she’d been having which she’d conveniently forgot to tell anyone she’d been having.
Stella and Y/N finally had some alone time while the other fairies bickered. She frowned as she looked at the girl in front of her, she was completely spaced out. Her eyes had gone black, no white showing at all.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Stella’s hand came to rest on her cousins shoulder and gave it a slight shake. Nothing. It was like she was in a trance. She was even more concerned when her pleas went ignored and Y/N stood up, walking through the girls and towards the edge of the woods. She panicked, she couldn’t go outside the barrier again, it was far too dangerous. Marco had just been attacked and who knew how many Burned Ones there actually were by now. Reports had been coming in that they travelled in groups, it was almost like they were searching for something and she wasn’t about to let her friend be the next victim.
Stella did the only thing she could think of and ran in the direction of Silva and Miss Dowling. Musa and the others ran to Y/N, hoping that someway they’d manage to get through to her before she did something reckless.
The teachers were talking quietly to a few senior Specialists. From what Stella could make out, Laura, Marcos partner, was still somewhere in the woods, fighting off Burned Ones with a broken leg. She had managed to seek shelter in an underground bunker, one like they had used in the woodland training, the only difference was this one wasn’t within the safety of the school and if someone didn’t do something quick, Laura would be dead in a matter of minutes.
“I hate to interrupt but something is really wrong with Y/N.” That got their attention. But then so did the screaming and shouting of Stella’s Suit mates. She looked towards where she had last saw you. But you weren’t there anymore, instead, you were on the other side of the glimmering shield that saved you from harm.
-Your POV-
Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the screams and pleading voice of your friends and you were kicking yourself for being where you were, but that was way way in the back of your mind. At the moment, you felt like you didn’t have control at all. Your feet were guiding you. The crackled breath of the Burned Ones could be heard all around you. They were right there, but you couldn’t see them… just like your dream.
Maybe it hadn’t been a dream at all, more like a premonition, for the next thing that happened, basically knocked you out of your magical trance. The largest of them all, King of the Burned Ones, stepped forward, horns upon his head twisted into a crown like shape, red fire seemed to burn in his core. You knew it was your father, or at least a version of the man who helped bring you to life. Something told you deep down.. it was him.
“Daughter, at last we meet.” The giant Burned One came to stand in front of you, you were now surrounded by others.
“What do you want, why are you here?” You were cut off by a snarling sound as shouts from Saul and the others could be heard getting closer.
“We are in a deal with a she Devil called Rosalind, after the deal is complete, we will come for you, so you can fulfil your destiny and sit upon the throne which is rightfully yours.”
“What deal? I’m not going anywhere with you! Why do you keep killing people!” The questions were meant with a gruff laugh.
“Why, because they’ve kept you from me long enough child. Mark my words, once the deal is fulfilled, we will come for you.”
The voices of your loved ones were closer and closer, you turned you head back to see if you could see anyone through the foliage.
When you turned back, your father was right in front of you, his hot breath fanning your face, in seconds, the Burned ones jumped you all at once and you screamed as you felt their talons slice against your flesh.
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Hi please don't hate me lol. I've gone back to work so when I get home I'm always tired atm so trying my best to write and all that <3 It's a little shorter than usual but I hope you still enjoy. As always please let me know what you think in the comments and like/re-blog/commet/follow! xx <3
CHAPTER 14 ----- CLICK HERE
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buck-nialled · 4 years
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I’m Baby - N. Horan Imagine
NOTE: here is some niall angst where the title doesn’t really make sense unless i decide to make a part 2 so let me know if you want one and if enough of you do I can continue this...
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Niall Horan was not an open book, by any means. Honest? Absolutely. Those closest around them fine the label “genuine” to be an understatement.  But the musician was not outward with every detail in his life like others he knew could be. There were obvious reasons why he was not, too. And the logic could not be clearer: nobody in the world needed to know what happened last Tuesday at the gym and how he hurt his knee or the fact that his teeth were in “impeccable condition” according to his usual orthodontist. More importantly, Niall did not think most people would care.
The only people around the man who are informed of these sundry happenings are those he knows would be interested, no matter the scenario. His mother, his best friend Lewis, and of course, you. For roughly nine months, you acted as Niall’s unlicensed (and hella supportive) therapist, but mainly played the part of his girlfriend. Each draining day Niall spent in the booth was a day he was guaranteed to find the sight of you running a hot bath for him at his house, lit candles and bath salts present alongside your naked form for him to unwind however he pleased. And whether the bath turned into a bubbly blanket for your cuddling figures or sensual lubrication for more intimate activities, it left each of you blissful for the rest of the night.
Whenever there was a prying interviewer who went a question too far for the man’s liking, or the hateful words sent Niall down the furious path of the forked road, rather than the somber one, your presence and appreciative listening kept his mood buoyant. You were an amazing partner to Niall, and possibly one of the best supporters he could have stumbled upon in his lifetime. Of course, the support flowed the other way too, despite what most of those in your life might consider being true. With Niall whisked away from you more often than not, it is difficult for him to find time to show you a similar passion which he holds for his occupation. But you knew he was trying, and you had told him on numerous occasions that was all the proof you needed.
The lack of PDA was something you needed to grow accustomed to, though. Admittedly, you were caught off guard when Niall invited you to attend a party with him but spent most of the night a good distance from your form. The various introductions you had envisioned your boyfriend leading in your head dissipated upon your arrival when you realized you would need to do most of the talking yourself. Intimidating was one word to describe the experience. If not for the sight of Niall’s quaffed, brunette hair peeking up like a shark’s fin throughout the crowd during conversations, you may have just fainted.
Finally, when you latched onto Niall’s arm after escaping another curious glance from someone of high status, you breathed a sigh of relief. “Baby, I’ve been trying to get to you all night. You keep running away from me.” A nervous chuckle slides past his lips.
“Sorry petal, guess I just…”
“Niall, hey! Thanks for coming man,” A tall figure approaches the two of you. The man’s brunette eyes take a cursory look over your form in wonder, but don’t remain. Upon traveling back to Niall’s eyes, you feel his arm tugging away from your grasp and meeting his friend for a hug.
“Thanks for the invite. Happy birthday, bud!” He cheers, patting the unruly haired stranger on his back, clad in an extravagantly patterned button-up. When they both pull away, the brown eyes are on you once more, and you are inhibited by a similar shrinking feeling.
“I don’t think we’ve met before…I’m Shawn.” The boy grins, teeth sparkling beneath the dim light as he stretches a hand towards you. You offer your own, hoping its shaking was not visible as they clasp together. No words are exchanged for the seconds following except a small ‘oomph’ as the man tugs you further until your head is colliding with his upper torso.
“Sorry, figured Niall would have given you a warning. I’m a hugger.” The man’s chest bounces through his laughter, causing you both to separate. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N.” The quiet answer barely has Niall’s ears perking up. And with the remaining distance between you and Shawn, his furrowed brows make it clear he could not catch it either.
“Sorry, what was that?” Shawn asks once more.
“Her names Y/N.” Niall’s voice breaks in, catching both you and Shawn off guard.
“Oh…” Shawn speaks after a few moments. “Well, welcome to the party, Y/N! There are drinks in the kitchen if you’d like some, but I’d hurry before he drinks them all. I’ll see you guys later,” Shawn waves before his long legs swagger off to another group of party-goers.
“Are you okay?” You turn to Niall, observing his now firm stance.
“Fine…” He mutters, before turning his head in the direction of the kitchen light. “You want a drink?”
“Sure,” you reach your hand to grab him but are only met with a brisk air gliding through your fingers and a glimpse of Niall’s form retreating into the kitchen in moments. He was acting suspicious, and you were pondering when a good opportunity would be to confront him about it if there ever was a good opportunity…
There wasn’t. Not that night at least, which just so happened to take place before the morning of Niall’s flight to London for a week to continue promo for a new single he was planning to release in a month. Your stewing concluded days before his return back to Los Angeles, and you decided the night was not something to quarrel over. Maybe the anxiety of the crowd was eating at him, or he just wanted to keep your affection to a minimum. What you did not understand, though, was why you needed to be a secret around his friends, too?
The two of you finally found time in your schedules for a day out together. Fortunately, this venture was only slightly work-related. When you brought up the need for a dress for a formal work event approaching hastily, Niall took the chance to inform of his own need for a pair of new boots, as a pair he owned now was becoming worn through their past years of wear and tear.
You made a note not to don your person in anything worthy of head turns. A simple t-shirt and jeans fit the attire just right as you and Niall strolled side by side, heads down, and sunglasses perched on your noses. Your fingers craved the feeling of his locked through them and twitched every time your knuckles bumped against each other’s but never acted further. When entering the store that sold clothes for all genders, you and Niall separated into your designated sections to scour options. Though Niall may not have known, just his body beside yours left you fulfilled and content, much more than the empty space.
The air around you suddenly grew warmer when your eyes finally landed on a plausible option. Thinking it was your boyfriend, you excitedly spun around to reveal your find, only to be met with an unfamiliar face.
“Baby, look what I—”  You pause at the sight of a store associate and not Niall. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were somebody else,” you murmur with flushed cheeks. Now realizing the scant space between your two bodies, you took it upon yourself to shuffle backward a few inches.
“That’s alright. I was wondering if I could help you find anything.” While the man spoke, your eyes peeked over his shoulders in attempts to spot your boyfriend. It was no avail and left you sighing.
“Yeah, actually…” you inquire if the dress you were holding came in your usual size, leaving the man to scurry back and check in the back stock eagerly. In the meantime, you hunt down Niall in the shoe section and find yourself frowning at his figure hunched on one of the benches sat in the middle of the aisle, not even one box of boots lying beside him.
“Hey baby, did you find anything?” Your voice has his blue eyes snapping up from his phone and to your twiddling thumbs. Taking a seat beside him calmed you down from the scare of the store employee, even if the closest to affection either of you attained from it was your thighs pressed against each other.
“Hmm,” Niall hummed, pocketing his mobile device. “Not really, did you?” He raises a brow in interest.
“I don’t know yet, I found one I liked a lot but—”
“Miss?” Immediately, both of your heads turned to find the store employee, with two dresses dangling from his fingers by their attached hangers.
“Good news, I found that dress in your size. But I saw this in the back also…” He moves the wine-red dress into your view for your eyes to drink in. “Not that my opinion matters, but I think it’d do your body nicely.” The man’s eyes darken with each word as his eyes trail up and down your body without hesitance.
You chuckle warily, cheeks growing hot beneath his stare as your tongue trembles behind your lips for an answer. “Uh…I um…”
“I think we’re good for today actually,” Niall’s voice fills your ears again. You turn your head to take sight of Niall’s soft jaw and challenging stare and take a sharp inhale at the feeling of his muscular arm winding around your middle. “Thanks for the offer, though.” The last sentence was short of a snap towards the man, who was now intimidated by Niall’s appearance. You were sure he would have apologized for his inappropriate comments too, but you found your boyfriend leading the two of you all too quickly into a different store.
But you pause when his hand leaves your waist before you two were entering a new store. “This place looks nice—” ‘
“Why’d you do that?” The question, spoken softly, somehow cut through Niall’s comment like steel.
“Do what?”
“That.” You clarify with a jut of your head towards the previous retailer. “Why’d you just step in like that? I could have said something myself.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Niall takes notice of your defensive stance immediately and begins spewing any nonsense words he can think of to deflate the interrogation.
“Come on, petal, he was being a creep.” Niall reasoned in a low tone, but your agitation only continued to grow along with your volume.
“Okay, and? Because he was a creep you just needed to put your arm around me and make it clear I was taken? I wasn’t going jump his bones even if I was single.” You argued. ‘
“I didn’t say you would. I was trying to send a message.” Niall explains, eyes catching curious glances from pedestrians strolling by.
“I could have sent one just as easily by telling him no.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because you didn’t even give me the chance, Niall!” Your voice burst into an entirely new level of loud neither of you knew possible. To make it worse, his name was the loudest part of the sentence, but you did not seem to care who may have heard you at that moment. Because whenever you were with Niall, and especially right now, he was not the international musician. He was your boyfriend. And you were having this argument whether one or one hundred people cared to gather around and witness it. “Just like you didn’t let me give my name to Shawn at his party.”
“You hesitated!” Niall hissed. “And what does Shawn’s party have to do with what just happened?”  
“I was in shock, okay? I didn’t expect a random dude to pull moves on me! I especially didn’t expect you to swoop in and save me like it’s your job.” You scoff, not even bothering to answer his follow-up question. Niall’s brows clinch together.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was now mimicking your stance, arms linked together over his torso.
“It means that…for somebody who wants to keep his girlfriend a secret, you’re doing a shit job of it.” You spit. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, the stares of close to fifteen people had been paying notice to your scuffle. An occasional flash could be caught by your peripheral, but you gave nobody the satisfaction of turning your head for a closer look at you.
“Says the girl who just outed us in public,” Niall mutters, words nearly inaudible to you. He wished seconds later that they were, but the shake of disdain you gave him before pivoting to speed away was all he needed to know he fucked up. Majorly.
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No Matter What You Say {Tony Stark!Mentor x Reader Oneshot}
Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2070 Summary: After taking the entrance exam for Midtown High School, you receive a special guest.
New York, New York. The most populated city in the United States just got bigger by three. You were already settled in your new room which looked out upon your small backyard where there was barely enough room for a bird bath let alone actual lounging space. But it was still better than the apartment that you had in your old city, which didn’t have so much as a balcony. It didn’t have superheroes or supervillains tearing up the streets either, but you weren’t in Manhattan so it should be alright - right? You looked out your window, seeing the back of another house, and then another house, and then another house, and then another house - so it wasn’t like in the movies, not exactly.
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“You ready for the test?” Your father asked, standing in the doorway. That’s the real reason that you were here. Your parents had such strong belief in your intellect that they up and moved from your normal life with your best friends, to this place where 'you have so much potential to succeed’. Because apparently your old school wasn’t good enough. Didn’t have as good a reputation as Midtown High.
Because nothing spelled fun and social life like a high school filled to the brim with smug geniuses.
“Considering you’ve been making me study for two weeks straight, yeah, I think I’m good,” You said, your voice filled with attitude. “I could have spent that time with my friends before you just plucked me up and dropped me here, but you know. Studying. So much more fun.”
“You’re not going to be making friends here if you keep that up,” Your father said. Always the optimist. A real silver lining kind of guy. Oh, we’re not going to end up dying in an alien attack on New York city like those other people did because Captain America took care of it!
Yeah. He sure did. And left the city with billions of dollars of damage and quite a few lives lost. Great job superheroes.
“Yeah, because I really wanted to come and be friends with the characters from Gossip Girl,” You grumbled. Your dad rolled his eyes - finally, a sign of human emotion that wasn’t just happiness. “Are you going to get out so I can get ready or are you just going to stand there?”
He held his hands up in surrender and left you to get ready. Midtown High School. Home of the brightest young minds in New York City. Even famed Tony Stark went there, and was a large sponsor of the school, and would apparently stop in for lectures sometimes. You knew which days that you were planning on skipping then.
-
There was a knock on the front door while you and your parents were sitting around the table pushed into the kitchen since the house was too small for a dining room, enjoying breakfast. Your father was the most relaxed out of the three of you, munching happily on toast, while your mother was too nervous to actually eat and was just clinging onto her coffee mug like it was her only tether to this earth. You were just eating, not caring either way about the test results which you should be getting today. In fact, that might have been the mailman.
“I’ll get it,” Your mother said, getting out of her seat so fast it fell over. You laughed at that, and dug your spoon back into your cereal, getting the sugar rush you needed to start the day. You could hear her voice grow louder and more excited. “Oh, please, please, come in! Come have a seat. Y/N! Honey! Can you come into the living room please?”
“Oh god, is it one of those prissy schools where the principal comes and welcomes you themselves?” You groaned. You were still in your pajamas, having no plans of leaving the house today, and now you were expected to greet a guest. This whole New York thing was not working out.
“Won’t know until we go find out,” Your father said. Never ending optimism on this guy. You certainly didn’t inherit that. You let your spoon fall back into the bowl and followed him out into the living room. Your first thought was that this guy was impeccably dressed, so unless the principal of Midtown was extremely rich, this probably wasn’t him. And then you noticed the facial hair - that probably was a hundred and fifty dollars from a good barber. That hair, colored to cover grays, obviously. Then it finally clicked in who exactly was sitting on your couch.
“Tony Stark - I mean Iron Man! I mean - Tony Stark!” Your dad said, his jaw dropping. “Can I get you anything? There’s a fresh pot of coffee, or I think we might have a beer somewhere...”
“It’s nine in the morning,” You said blankly to your father and walked past your parents to sit in an arm chair across from the couch so you could get a better look at your guest. Ironman was in your living room, and he was seeing you dressed in your pajamas. At least this was something to write to your friends about. Everything else had been boring so far. “No one needs a beer at nine in the morning.”
“I’ll take a coffee,” Tony said, as if he was at a cafe ordering from a waiter rather than in someone’s home. Your father ran to get it, nearly tripping over his own feet, while your mother came and stood beside you. You looked up at her, furrowed your brow and shook your head. She was acting so weird. Both of your parents were. Guess it was up to you to be the adult here?
“Cool, so while you have my dad running around like a chicken with his head cut off...” You said, leaning back, crossing your arms in front of you. “Why is Tony Stark in our living room? Unless you think we’re some sort of bad guys - which we’re not. Though they would probably say the same thing.” You just really couldn’t think of a reason, and he clearly wasn’t just going to spit it out.
“Well, I came to deliver the bad news, and the good news for myself,” He said with a little clap, and leaned in close, catching your eye. “The good news is that you got the second highest score on the entrance exam that Midtown High ever received.”
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A mug broke from the kitchen as Tony’s voice carried to your father who was coming back with the coffee. The cup had slipped out of his hand and had broken into small pieces, the hot liquid getting all over his shirt. “Shit,” He said, looking at himself, but only worried about that for a second. “The second highest in their history? Y/N! We knew you would get in but that’s amazing!”
“So what’s the bad news?” You asked, not getting your hopes up.
“You’re going to have to take another test right here and right now with me watching to make sure that you weren’t cheating,” He said with a smirk. “We don’t have much tolerance for that.”
“Ahh - alright, bring it on.” I said. He continued to look smug as he opened a briefcase and took out a piece of paper and a pencil. Even the pencil said Stark Industries along the side, and was in the Ironman colors. “Seriously?”
“It’s all I got.”
“Of course it is.” I picked up the paper and looked over it. The question were similar to the ones that were on the exam I took, but not the same. I laid it back down on the table, and was about to press lead to paper when he stopped me by clicking his tongue.
“I’m going to have to ask these parents to leave the room. Just to make sure there’s no cheating going on. And that coffee, if you don’t mind?”
My parents hid out in the kitchen, picking up the broken pieces of the mug and mopping the floors. There was no music, no television, no devices allowed, just in case I found a way to cheat. It was a bit insulting, really. He was watching you like a hawk. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” You asked, filling out a math equation. “They probably could have sent a teacher to do this, don’t ya think?”
“If you get these right, then I have a counter offer for you.” He said, and then narrowed his eyes. “No talking. Finish the test.”
“Jeez, okay, okay, I’m working on it.” You continued to work, finished it up, signed the paper and then handed it over. “No way I could have cheated, right?”
“None that I could tell,” He didn’t take the piece of paper, just motioned for you to set it down onto the table. You shrugged and did so, and then he picked it up, scanning through it. He took a pen out of his breast pocket, and started to write things down, following your lines of thinking. He removed his sunglasses from his face, ran his hands through his hair, and looked at you. Really looked at you. It made you uncomfortable.
“Well?” You asked about the test.
“Perfect, and no signs of cheating. Guess there’s only one thing left to do then. Hey parents!”
You sighed, glad that it was all over now. You were expecting him to just give you and your parents the papers to sign and then you would be in Midtown High. All to fulfill this great potential that your parents said that you had inside of you. And yet still, all you wanted to do was go back home to where your friends were. You’d rather work in a grocery store and still be able to see them rather than live in the big city, become rich and only deal with snobs. Your parents came back into the room, and stood on either side of you, beaming proudly. They never thought that you cheated, which you guessed was a good sign of their faith in you, even if it was a bit annoying that they were the reason you had to take the stupid exam in the first place.
“I want to offer you a mentorship, working under me, for Stark Industries,” Tony said, his tone already showing that he was expecting for you to say yes. “We’ll work around your Midtown schedule. I’ll send a car to pick you up, bring you to be after class, and you’ll get first hand experience in the best workplace in the world. I’ve got some papers here, just need the parentals here to sign.”
“Uhh - no thanks,” You said, shaking your head and stood up. “I mean, I’ll go to Midtown, great, but I don’t want any sort of mentorship.”
“Excuse me?” Tony asked.
“Hey, let’s not be hasty-” Your father would start.
“Don’t embarass us in front of Mr. Stark...” Your mother started.
“I’m not looking to work for you in the future, Mr. Stark. No offense. But I’m not really planning on doing this whole tech stuff when I graduate. I just wanna go to school, come home, talk to my friends and not have the added stress. I appreciate it and all but-”
“Is y/n being serious?” Tony asked, bypassing you and looked towards your mother. She shook her head quickly.
“Just a shock,” She reassured in your behalf. “Y/n will be more than happy to take the mentorship. Won’t you, sweetie?”
You looked up at her. Her nerves were frazzled. This was all that she had ever wanted for you. And then you looked at your dad, who looked a  bit more caring about all of this. About you.
“It’s your choice,” Your father said. “But you earned this opportunity. It’s not going to come again, and you might regret giving it up.���
Ugh.
You nodded reluctantly. Your parents started celebrating. Tony said he would take that beer now.
Looks like you had yourself a mentorship.
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snapefiction · 3 years
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A pinch of her Luck - Snapefiction
A/N: This one is different of my usual writing Themes but I hope you like it! Have the best day ! 😊💕
❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️
Word count: 2962
TW: Mention of Abuse, Divorce, Pain and physical injuries
A pinch of her Luck
Minerva McGongall was a kind and humble person. Growing up she always showed big pride in her Actions whenever she stood up for someone else or sometimes even herself. But her Pride never took over her humbleness. Her sweet ability to cherish the small things in life that felt way greater than they were to anybody else around her. She was able to see what people could turn into. What they could grow to be. That’s what has gotten her the Position as the head of her House. Everyone could tell that she was a true Gryffindor, her actions never proved them wrong.
,,And again! Gryffindor won the House Cup! Minerva, you really did a good Job as their Mentor.“ Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin gratulated her. Smiling she just raised her Glas as his clumpy Hand patted her shoulder slightly.
,,You need to spill the Tea on what’s your trick! Tell me or I´ll get some Veritaseum.“ He joked before he laughed and turned to Albus to get another Glas of wine. Knowing that everyone was having a good time and there was no bad blood because Gryffindor had won again she felt the most secure than ever. She wasn’t surronded by colleagues she thought while watching them celebrate with her in that red decorated room. They grew to become her closest friends.
,,Let´s raise our Glas one last time before we can call it a night and Classes begin next week!“ Albus her dearest Friend of all solemnly announced as he rose his Glas towards the sky. Her Smile was glued to her lips and - she didn’t let anyone see it - small tears of joy may have slipped her eyes. Silently she watched the Scene while wishing to be able to give back all the Joy and Love she always and steady was receiving at Hogwarts. If she could even share just a pinch of her Luck it would be enough.
After a Sunday filled with Headache from the party of the night before she prepared everything for her upcoming Transfiguration classes. Slughorn had brought her a Potion to ease her Pain was she was politely declining. Minerva always preferred to just ´sit it out´. And so it came that she just fulfilled all her tasks of the day until she drank her last cup of tea of the day and went to bed early. Knowing she wasn’t able to fall asleep right away anyways. The Fact that there were new Gryffindors and Students arriving at Hogwarts tomorrow filled her guts with Excitement. Also seeing what all the Students have learned and experienced over their summer break was gladden her. Who could resent her? She was still a young witch and a even younger Professor. Caring for them as if they were her younger siblings or sometimes even her own children. She simply loved her Job.
Her Monday was as bright as she imagined it to be. All the new Students were already impressing her with their different heritages and Experiences. To be truthful, she already knew some of them. Great Wizarding Familys were part of Hogwarts and every year she got to get known to more of them. After greeting a lot of them she made her way up to her classes. As the freshly arrived Students still had a few days off to explore the great castle and getting known to each other she had enough time to catch up with everyone who was just returning to the School.
Everyone was happily reporting about their summer. Mostly filled with Fun, their family and friends and some of them even prepared themselves for some of the classes since they were so excited to come back. Her chest filled itself with Happiness again, this was the most beautiful Live she could imagine herself living.
,,And what about you Professor McGonagall?“ A young Ravenclaw asked her in response of how everyone spent their Summer. Grinning she pretended to think about a fitting answer while her pointing finger tapped her chin.
,,Hmmm.. Actually I was just eating ice cream aaaalll day long and read all of my favourite books over and over again.“ Minerva admitted and watched them chuckle as they didn’t seem to believe her. They couldn’t imagine her being just silly all summer long. But she was and no, she wasn’t regretting anything. As mentioned, she was having the best time.
After another class she had to watch Professor Slughorn storm into her class.
,,Minerva! She did it again! Miss Finnigan blew up a whole cauldron filled with ageing Potion. Can you quickly watch my Students before they have to witness me as a grandpa.“
Covering her mouth she nodded. His hair was already turning grey. ,,Of course. Take Miss Finnigan with you to the Hospital Wing.“ Almost choking on her laughter she hurried to the Dungeons where the Class was already awaiting someone to take the lead of the class.
,,As I just got informed that there was a little accident happing I suggest that we’ll make sure everyone cleans their tables, okay? After that you may be dismissed from your Potions Class for today.“ Happy chattering filled the Room quickly before everyone got up to clean. Minervas eyes tried to over see the whole room which seemed to be impossible but luckily everything went alright. After the almost everyone was gone she sat down on the Desk to have a look into the Potions Book. She never had a very skilled Potion Knowledge so it was interesting to fresh it up. A almost inaudible whisper made her look up. Severus Snape, a young Slytherin Student stood in front of her. Holding out his Hand, showing her a small vial. Confused she raised her brows while laying down the Book.
,,Dear, what is that?“ He wasn’t looking up but kept on mumbling. ,,Ageing Potion. I finished it when the Cauldron exploded. Can you pass it to Professor Slughorn?“ Taking the Potion in her Hand she was clearly surprised to say the least. It took a while to brew a potion, especially at this young age and he managed it to brew it within the first 20 Minutes of the Class?
,,I must admit-“ Clearing her throat she set the Potion aside. ,,You are very skilled, do you know that?“ Severus just slightly raised his shoulders only to let them fall down a few seconds later. Sensing that something was odd she pressed her lips together for a second.
Getting up she made her way to the classroom door after she was assured that everyone besides the both of them has left the class already. Walking back she watched him standing there. His slim figure was almost unnoticeable since he was acting like he was invisible.
,,Mister Snape, would you look at me for a second?“ Quickly he glanced up angry and hissed: ,, Don’t call me that. My Name is Severus.“ Understanding she gasped before apologising.
,,I´m Sorry Severus. But would you look at me?“ As he wasn’t answering she was just patiently sitting down on one for the students desks pulling out a second chair while silently inviting him. As she asked his class how their summer was everyone was being loud and excited but him. At first she wasn’t thinking too much about it. He was always a bit shy and kept it private, which was totally fine, don’t get her wrong, but this time it simply felt odd.
Severus took a while before following her invitation and sitting down on the old wooden chair next to her. ,,I know that I’m just an old Witch and I probably don’t know all your struggles but I may assure you that i´ll be always be there for you. I can listen to you, talk with you or if you like just be there for you because I care for you. Do you understand that?“ After a few seconds the dark haired boy dared to slightly raise his head. A big blue Mark was covering his left eye. Trying not to gasp or ask sudden questions she smiled slightly.
,,Thank you, Professor McGonagall.“ She could see his lips which were cut on one side quiver. And before she knew it the young Slytherin, who was just a Kid still, hugged her. His Tears came flooding and he wetted her shoulder quickly but she didn’t mind as she just patted his back.
,,It’s okay, I´m here for you.“ She said softly. What a pressure must lay on his heavy heart? She didn’t dare to imagine it. A small sigh escaped her lips. He must’ve been so ashamed of it that he didn’t dared to look her in the eyes.
,,If you want to I can use a spell to decrease it.“ Sniffing he let go of her only so his red puffy eyes could look at her and his dark head could nod.
,,Please, make it go away. Help me get away from there.“ Nodding again she carefully pushed a small strain of black hair behind his ear to look at it closely. She had to keep her facade tightly so he wouldn’t be able to notice how his cry for help was breaking her small heart. Casting the Spell for his eye she repeated it for his cut Lip. But as she was intending to lay her wand aside he stopped her by shoving up his sleeve. Blue Marks in form of big hands were facing the surface of his skin. At first she opened her mouth, trying to ask a question but she quickly bid her Lip. He would talk to her when he was ready, she reminded herself. Healing his Wounds she couldn’t get her mind of the Pain he must go through. He was till so young. Looking up as she was done for good now she tried to look for the right words.
,,You can always talk to me, do you know that?“ And for the first time since she was teaching him he smiled slightly towards her. His relief was visible.
,,Thank you. I always feel better while I’m back at Hogwarts.“ He admitted before grabbing his Bag and asked her with a small gesture to leave. With a nod she dismissed him and watch him leave only to turn back around after he was gone.
,,I do too, Kiddo.“
Months passed and she knew that the Moment would come. The Moment that would break her heart. Christmas Break was coming around and as Severus, who grew really close to her, wasn’t heading home for these few days she knew she had to do something. Actually she still went back Home on the Holidays as her Mother was always preparing a big feast for the whole family but this year Minerva politely declined.
,,I have so much work to do. I think I won’t be able to make it. But I promise you that i´ll be there on New Years Eve.“ She wrote in one of her Letters a few weeks ago.
Making her way down to the big table she saw Severus shortly raising his Hand before a let his quick smile fade again. She greeted him in return and sat down next to Albus who was now eyeing her.
,,You two bonded, didn’t you?“ Smiling she nodded. After what had happened on the first day of School she had talked with Albus about it for hours. Albus was a honourable man, she thought. After she told him he quickly took the Matter in his Hands and made sure that People from The Order would take care of the issue.  To be exact they helped Severus Mother, a young thin dark haired Lady, to divorce from her abusive husband.
Of course, Severus wasn’t a dumb Boy, nor was he foolish to think that it was someone else but Minerva who was responsible for his whole life changing for the better in this short time. She was being a friend when he had none.
Smiling she looked over to Albus. ,,Do you think he’ll know we got him the new Potion Book?“ Chuckling he nodded while the both of them watched Severus unwrapping his first Christmas Present that Minervas Owl just brought him.
,,Of course he will. I mean you wrapped it in Gryffindor House colours. His Mother is a Slytherin too. So why would he think it was someone else but his favourite Teacher?“ Shrugging her Shoulders she laughed too. Seeing the little Boy this happy made her heart swell.
- As the Summertime came around Minerva smiled towards the Teenager in front of her. He had already packed his Suitcase and waited for her.
,,I´m sure you will love Scotland.“ She assured him while putting on one of her cloaks. ,,Are you ready?“ Severus smiled widely before taking her arm and they both appartated from Cokeworth where she picked Severus up from his Mothers House to Scotland. The origin Home of Minerva.
It was obvious that they didn’t only bonded but became great friends. That’s why Minerva invited the now aged Slytherin to visit her Hometown and bond with well known and appreciated Potion Master Friends of hers. But that wasn’t everything. Eileen Snape, Severus Mother, was about to follow them too. She would follow them after the first week of the summertime break since she couldn’t take vacation earlier from her new job.
She hoped that she would be able to help him discover what he’d like to do after his graduation also Minerva knew that they never went on a vacation before and how excited Severus was even though he wasn’t really admitting it. So it was a win-win Situation.
,,Set your Luggage down next to the Stairs.“ She introduced him to the small House. ,,I´ll show you around in a minute.“ She wasn’t paying any more Attention as she was already kneeling down and petted a red haired cat next to her.
,,Hello, my good boy. How have you been?“ She purred and made silly faces. ,,Severus, come here. I want you to meet Frank. He was my Grandmothers Cat.“ As Severus entered the living room again he made a small gesturing bow towards Frank. ,,It’s my pleasure, Mr. Frank. My Name is Severus Snape.“ Afterwards he carefully kneeled down to let him sniff on his hand and finally pet him.
- The Weeks in Scotland were passing by so quickly Minerva almost couldn’t believe it. Severus was literally blooming. After meeting Minervas Friends he changed his vision of his own future almost daily. From Potions Master to shop owner, from Auror to Healer. He was impressed by all the ability of Magic. To be honest Minerva felt the same. She got easily excited by such things too and if live would offer her the chances she’d try almost every Job there was to try. But by heart she knew that she’d always come back to Hogwarts, it simply had become her passion. That’s what she hoped for Severus to find too. His own Passion. But it wasn’t only Severus who was growing. Eileen was turning into another woman. A independent, strong and happy woman who supported her Son in every way possible. Knowing she would miss this Summer deeply she instantly invited them over to Christmas Dinner in Scotland next Christmas so they could celebrate it together. Scotland wasn’t just Minervas Home anymore. It was a Home for her beloved friends as well.
-
Sorrow was laying on her Chest as she walked towards the Teachers Room. Today was the day. Her weak knees felt more shaky than ever now, who could resent her? She was being a well aged Lady by now and a even older aged Professor as well. So well aged that it had become her last year at Hogwarts by now. Entering the Teachers room she looked at the green Decorations hanging around. Her Lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked over the small crowd of people before she set next to her favourite one.
,,At least I won´t go down without a fight.“ She sniffed before looked in those endless dark eyes.
,,I wouldn’t have anticipated it otherwise, Aunty.“ Seeing her Lips quiver he quickly pulled her close. Hugging him tightly she still was overwhelmed by this Man. 
,,I always knew that you’d become the great wizard that you are today, Severus. I Knew what you were able to become. Life was tough but so are you.“ Letting go of him she saw his glossy eyes and laughed lightly. She would be forever thankful for being able to watch and help him grow up. He had become Family to her.
,,Let´s raise our Glas one last time before we can call it a night and Classes begin next week!“ She repeated Albus words while also dedicating this to him. Time has changed a lot. She has lost many good friends but she would always repeat everything in the exact same way. Not because of her own many victories but because of her favourite student who was able to change the wizarding world. And despite her temporary Despair and Worries she never lost her faith in him.
,,For Slytherin and their Head of House Professor Snape and our beloved friend Minerva McGonagall the best head of house Gryffindor has ever had!“ Slughorn proudly announced and his festive Voice cracked at the End. The Man who now looked like a exact image like the one Minerva had seen decades ago, thanks to the ageing Potion that blew up, raised his Glas and everyone copied him. Scanning the room Minerva smiled proudly, no one could ever be as lucky as she was while being surrounded by all her Friends and Family.
Taglist: @deepperplexity  , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4 , @lizlil , @once-upon-an-imagine , @darkthought15 , @elizabeth-baelish , @looseheartedlady , @ithinkweallsing , @simpforsnape , @meteoritewolf69
Let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist. :)
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fanficfeeling · 4 years
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Lovely - Jaskier x Reader
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a fanfic in quite a few years, because for whatever reason, 2020 has brought with it a whole lot of inspiration, and I’m so excited to write again! I also recently binged The Witcher, and I’m crushing big time on Jaskier, so that felt like a good place to start! I’m very rusty, so I would appreciate feedback, but please be gentle on this returning writer. I’m so proud of how this piece went after not writing for about three years, I may even make a part 2 to this, so I hope you enjoy it!
Y/N is finally beginning to make a good living doing odd jobs in her hometown when she meets Geralt of Rivia. He shows up to deal with some odd beast in the woods nearby, and Y/N is happy to offer her assisting services to the Witcher, who eventually can't ignore her offer anymore when he realizes he needs the assistance of someone who knows the area better than he does. Y/N assists him with little fuss, because it's what she does, and maybe, just maybe, the townspeople will toss her a coin too for helping him when all is done (turns out, they never do). When it seems that he actually doesn't mind her presence or her help, she asks to come with him when he leaves her small corner of the world, because maybe she can make an even better living going where he goes, since it seems all he does is follow trouble. Oddly enough, he agrees to the arrangement.
They quickly became an excellent silent tag team of sorts. He goes to the newest monster, and Y/N follows him to wherever they reign devastation, to offer any help she can to those in need, temporarily. He gets the coin for his end, she gets the coin for hers,  and they pool it, making more than enough coin for them both, and somehow helping people along the way.
Y/N's new life is good, at the end of the day, with good money, fulfilling work, and decent company to fill her days, and this peace goes undisturbed for quite a good while. That is, until Jaskier catches up with Geralt.
The pair stopped at an inn after moving on from their last area in need, and, as per usual, they ordered their drinks and sat in a corner in near total silence, enjoying some peace and quiet after witnessing a whole lot of suffering.
"Geralt! So wonderful to see you, I've really been looking for you everywhere, I have a request to make of my dear friend." The brunette bard slides onto the seat next to Geralt, and the Witcher grunts in protest.
"Jaskier."
The bard appears to mock offense, "How lovely to see you too, Geralt! And here I was hoping you'd been missing me-" He trails off as he lays his eyes on the lady sitting across from him, and his mouth drops open in awe quickly. The lady shifts uncomfortably as he stares, and her eyes quickly shift to her travelling companion.
"Geralt, do you... know this man?"
The Witcher grunts once again uncomfortably, "Unfortunately."
Jaskier speaks once again, never able to keep his mouth shut for long, "C'mon, Geralt aren't you going to introduce us? Me, your best friend in the world and this stunning woman who I can only hope is also just your friend and also not insane like your taste in women usually implies?"
Geralt stares at him blankly, hoping on everything holy the bard would move on and not try to "woo" his new partner in crime, but he knew that was highly unlikely, so he settled on giving him this; "Y/N, this is Jaskier, not my friend. Jaskier, Y/N, my travelling companion."
Jaskier decided quickly enough that that mediocre introduction would suffice, and took it from there.
"Hello, fair Y/N, Geralt does me no service. I'm Jaskier, a bard some would say of exceptional talent, I wrote 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher', ever heard of it? I'm sure you have, it's about him!" He breaks briefly to jam his thumb in Geralt's direction, "And may I just say, you are very lovely and I hope that when he says that you're his 'travelling companion', he doesn't mean you're sleeping with him, because I would love to buy you a drink this evening."
Y/N is caught off guard by Jaskier's quick mouth and forward language, but she has to admit, the man is not unappealing. Despite his initial, uncomfortable staring, his eyes are soft as he looks at her, not menacing, and his words don't seem disingenuous; she could bet money on the fact that he really does think she's lovely. As much as she enjoys Geralt's company, she could of course do with some company that wasn't miserable or silent, and Jaskier brought a smile to her face in a way no one had for a while. Besides everything else, he's attractive, and the first man in a long time, if ever, to show genuine interest in her like this.
Once over her shock, she smiles at him. "Alright, Jaskier, I'm almost at my limit for tonight, but I suppose one more drink really couldn't hurt, if you must insist." Feeling bold with his genuine flirtations, she takes a chance and throws a wink his way, punctuating her sentence with it.
The change in atmosphere is sharp as a grin lights up Jaskier's entire face, one that makes Y/N's heart have palpitations as her stomach flops, and for the first time since Y/N met him, Geralt is stunned, and nearly drops his drink. Jaskier, lighting up the whole room with his smile, doesn't take his opportunity for granted.
"Right! Excellent! So glad you feel that way! I will order you a drink, and in return I want to know more about you, deal?"
Y/N can't help but feel lightheaded at the idea of this man really wanting to get to know her. "Deal."
Without questioning his luck, Jaskier quickly runs off to fulfill his end of the deal, leaving Y/N and Geralt in silence once more.
"Not to pry, for fear of damaging our professional relationship, but... really?" Geralt says, breaking the silence once more.
Y/N laughs. "He seems a decent enough man, and it's hard to find someone that earnest nowadays. Unless you have any cautionary tales, about your 'best friend in the world'?"
Geralt rolls his eyes at her comment, but says nothing. For everything annoying he sees in Jaskier, and as much as he pushed him away, it was rare that he found someone who was actually willing to entertain him. Despite how many people Jaskier goes to bed with, Geralt knows just as well that the bard's intentions were pure enough; he just needed someone to get on the same page as him.
"He's not totally incompetent, I'll give him that, and he's not harmful. Do what you will." Geralt mutters, then stands. "I'll get out of your way. I've seen enough of that boy's flirting to not want to watch his attempts at you."
Y/N laughs again. "Well, I thank you for the privacy, and by your standards, that seems a glowing recommendation for him, so I'll give him an honest shot. I value your opinion."
Geralt freezes. So that's what it feels like: mutual respect. He could get used to that. "We head out tomorrow morning." Y/N nods at him as he walks away.
She's not alone for long as Jaskier returns quickly, two drinks in hand, sliding into the spot across from her once more. He doesn't question where Geralt went, but he's relieved by the privacy.
"Now, your turn. Tell me about you. How does a lovely creature such as you end up travelling with Geralt of Rivia?"
She tells him. She recaps her life as it lead up to her career, and tells him of how she met Geralt, and tells him about her travels with the near infamous WItcher.  And hanging on the edge of his seat every moment, Jaskier listens.
As Y/N brings him up to date on her best stories, Jaskier sighs almost wistfully, "You're so interesting. Your life would make for amazing songs."
Y/N's laugh graces his ears. "Would it now? I never figured odd jobs would make entertaining musical material."
Jaskier sits up straight from where his head had lain in his hand, staring at Y/N as she spoke. "You do good things, and you're so... interesting. You've come so far in your life, you travel with one of the most interesting men in the world, all to do some good, even when it's hard. You're incredible."
Y/N feels her cheeks begin to glow a bright red at his praise. Her job was often thankless, so to hear someone say she did good, and that her good was fascinating enough to be acknowledged, felt like a warm hug after getting caught in a rainstorm.
"Thank you, Jaskier, I... don't get compliments like that often. I was under the impression that I'm pretty boring."
Jaskier feigned alarm, "You? I can't see anyone ever finding you boring, how could anyone with a goal and a story to tell be boring? And frankly, I quite think you deserve all the compliments, my lady."
When she began to think that she'd found the perfect man after only knowing him for one night, Y/N decides that she may have had just a tad too much to drink, and decides to call it a night. She coughs nervously.
"Well, I, uh- thank you, Jaskier. That's very kind of you. YOU are very kind. I've never had someone call me interesting, or listen to me so intently for so long, and it's a testament to your good character. This has been wonderful, and I thank you for the drink, but I'm quite tired and we ride out early tomorrow, so I'd best be headed to bed. Thank you for the drink, Jaskier." She pauses as she stands. "And your company."
As she walks away, Jaskier feels his heart beating through his chest, and the harsh thumping of it has him reeling. She enjoyed his company. She thought he was nice. She was willing to give him a chance. And she was... lovely. He got so swept up in her that he forgot he even had something to ask Geralt.
The next morning, after Jaskier had barely slept, he made sure to meet the adventuring pair as they head out once more. He fully intended on asking his favor of Geralt and going on his merry way.
Until Y/N stepped out that door, all misty-eyed and looking like a goddess, and when Geralt asked him what the fuck he wanted, all Jaskier could think to ask was, "Will you please take me with you?" She was too beautiful to let slip out of his hands, not when he was in like this, and she made his mind so blank and dizzy, but so ripe with inspiration at the same time. Being near her seemed a drug he would happily indulge in.
She offered him a ride on her horse, Cinnamon, when Geralt very reluctantly agreed to let him tag along. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he panicked that she could feel the intense beating in his chest. So he reverted to his best coping mechanism, and he sang; a song he had written the night before, about a very pretty woman who had traveled so far from home to spread good throughout the world. She grinned the entire time he sang.
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paperbagpetrichor · 4 years
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Can I please request Headcanons for a poly relationship with Kakyoin and Jotaro?
[ This was so cute, thank you so much for the request ^-^ ]
➼  Initially, you were conflicted.  A polyamorous love?  Even in your wildest dreams, you couldn’t think of anything, much less anyone, that would allow your desires to happen.  Plenty of people wanted one person to themselves and one only, and that was perfectly fine.  Most people tended to fall in love that way.  But not you.  And there was that same, familiar, repetitive, teeth-grinding worry: who would?  Who would, especially whilst you were on a journey that necessitated its completion in fifty days or less, practically traveling half of the world, fighting enemies at nearly every stop, always on edge?  Nobody had time for things such as romance.  You were convinced as much.  Nobody but you.  There was something about your group - two members specifically - that sparked a feeling within you that you’d never experienced before.  It wasn’t just desire, it wasn’t just love, it wasn’t just lust, it was desideratum, a compulsion that you simply couldn’t quell despite all your best attempts.  
➼  It was Kakyoin that you began to notice your heart fluttering about around first.  He may have been relatively shy in comparison to some of the others - especially Polnareff and Mr. Joestar, sometimes Avdol, too - but it was easy enough to get him to open up, and when he was in his element, talking with passion about his hopes and dreams, his art, what he would do after everything was over, it was as though his love for what he spoke about channeled itself into you, only to reflect back onto him.  The two of you grew close fairly quickly, albeit just remaining friends.  It was soon clear enough that out of everyone you were the one he trusted the most.  You would often have small chats whenever you both could catch a break, talking about nothing in particular, nevertheless filling the air with your words, materializing your thoughts and sharing your ideas, your emotions, your fears and your happiness.  Out of them all, he was the easiest to talk to, the most understanding, the most caring.
➼  But sometimes, you didn’t want to talk.  All you needed was someone to be there, beside you, not inherently trying to help you, as Kakyoin always would, but more like an anchor to reality, that even though you were going to be okay in the end, it was okay to feel the way you did, and nobody would try to stop you, simply lend an ear and listen quietly.  You found this in Jotaro.  Sometimes, of course, you would talk, but all the fluff you would share with Kakyoin was stripped to its barest bones, no protective wording required, just straight, blunt, unrelenting words.  It was like a breath of fresh air after all of the orders you had to obey to fulfill your quest.  And although it was certainly less so on his part, he would occasionally talk to you, too, once revealing genuine concern for his mother - the first time he had in the entirety of the journey, to no one else but you.  When it was just the two of you together, noiseless, you found yourself enjoying one another’s company in silence.  Words weren’t needed.
➼  The age-old confliction only continued within you, especially as you grew closer to each of them, oftentimes falling asleep outside should you all be in absence of a proper place to stay in the middle of them both, cuddled in your sleeping bag and trying to drift off to sleep only to find yourself lost in thoughts.  If Jotaro was asleep, you would wind up joking around with Kakyoin, telling him about what life had been like before you’d started the journey, he doing the same, sensing your discomfort - albeit unsure as to what was troubling you - and doing his best to cheer you up, make you smile or laugh.  If Kakyoin was asleep, you and Jotaro would share quiet words about the sky, constellations, or else plan for the next day, or, if neither of you could fall asleep, simply turn and face one another to remind each other that you both were there for the other, that when you woke up the next day neither of you would be gone.  And, as it turned out, these simple actions lead to answering the dreaded question.
➼  It happened one morning, when you just so transpired to be the first awake out of all the group, that you first saw it.  Often, Kakyoin would wind up with you leaning against him, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck as he settled his own above yours, lying together in comfort.  Equally as often, Jotaro would wrap an arm, almost protectively, around your form, holding you to him.  But never had both happened at once.  And from there, once the others awoke, no questions were asked.  It was simply - so beautifully simply - affirmed.  Wordlessly, yet more meaningful than any words could possibly express, the three of you fell into the joys of one another.
➼  Kakyoin is usually the most cuddly of the two, eager for hugs or small, soft touches with you both, taking advantage of every time the three of you were able to sit together to lean against you both and smile, making small talk and complimenting you both, in complete and utter bliss within your presences.  Although more reserved, Jotaro would occasionally express physical touch, typically in the form of a hand on your shoulder or a pat on your head.
➼  Jotaro’s actually quite talented in the aspect of cooking, primarily because he’d seen his mom make his lunch or dinner enough times to remember the recipes.  Usually he would be the one to make you both something, but his knowledge was limited solely to what he’d seen his mother cook, which, considering he often didn’t pay much attention to it, was rather small.  You would usually take over for him.  Kakyoin tried to help you both, of course, but he and the kitchen didn’t exactly seem to get along, and he knew it.  Instead he offered himself to help the two of you, fetching ingredients or watching the food should neither you or Jotaro be free to stay and tend to it yourselves.  As soon as he could, he would find more of an active role, and found himself genuinely enjoying the dessert aspect - especially because he could sneak a few sweets for himself.  As was to be expected, most of his dishes incorporated cherries, but both you and Jotaro found it fitting.
➼  If Jotaro was hurt or sick, the other two of you would wordlessly tend to his injuries or illnesses, even as he grumbled about how he was fine and neither of you should be involving yourselves because it was “stupid” and he could “get over it.”  The way he acted, you and Kakyoin wouldn’t have been surprised if he was cut to pieces while suffering from the worst strain of the flu, and just look at the both of you and say something along the lines of “’Tis but a flesh wound.”  Both you and Kakyoin would roll your eyes and shrug whenever he said he was fine but clearly wasn’t - “Jotaro, you’ve been shot, these wounds go right through your arm - ” “ - And?  It’ll just heal.”  “No, Jotaro, please listen to us…” - but care for him to the best of your abilities, with one of you always close to him to make sure he didn’t try anything genuinely stupid while hurt.  On the other hand, if Kakyoin was harmed or ill, you tended to take the lead in caring for him, specially tending to him and reaffirming that he would be alright with extra love and care, hugging him to you or letting him intertwine with you however he could in terms of his injuries, speaking to you both even if in pain simply to hear your voices.  Although you were the primary caretaker, Kakyoin often felt guilty of making you worry, and would express his feelings to Jotaro, who would sigh and always tell him that he wasn’t a burden and you were glad to do anything to help him.  If you met the same fate, the both of them would take care of you, Kakyoin primarily in the more front-line aspects such as checking your temperature or changing your bandages, always popping in on you to ensure you were alright and staying at your side if you were lonely, Jotaro planning something for the three of you once you recovered, stopping by every now and then to see how you were doing.  The contrast between the concern in his eyes as he saw you or Kakyoin hurt versus the complete lack of it should he be hurt was always enough to make you smile.
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daylicate · 4 years
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Please read this with an open mind and heart. I want nothing but for you all to experience eternal love.
He who has ears to hear, let him hear. | Matthew 11:15
“Psy-Group offered its avatars for influence campaigns, boasting that they could plant the seeds of thought in people.” - Article by Ronan Farrow on how psyops work. I think it’s important to read this because it can help you to understand how celebrity/political platforms (of BOTH parties) can potentially be a part of this type of system (knowingly or unknowingly).
This is going to be a harsh reality for the entire swiftie community, but I need to get this out there. As someone who woke up every single day for a year wondering what Taylor and other celebrities were up to, I’m here to warn you guys how detrimental stan culture, idolization and gossip are to your psyche. You are not free if you wake up every day wondering what is going on in someone else’s life - I repeat, YOU are NOT free. You become enslaved to your devices, post notifications, certain blogs and solving hidden easter eggs, thus making Taylor your personal savior. You are chained to a story that you don’t even know the full truth of. You sit here waiting for a coming out, and if it does ever happen, I promise you it’s not going to bring you the fulfillment you truly need. She’s a mirrorball trying to please everyone, and it keeps you wanting to follow her and buy her music. This is how the music industry operates through Taylor’s gift, and it can become extremely unhealthy if a fan decides to dive deep into her life and career. You become dependent on her to bring you happiness, acceptance, love, truth, and more, when you should be dependent on God to bring you this. He loves you and desperately wants you to come home!
The hours I spent dissecting music videos and reading blind items I could’ve been gardening, working on my own craft, cooking, cleaning, dancing, studying, reading, hiking, and so much more. That is true freedom! It’s living in the present and noticing the beauty of your surroundings. I’m grateful for the time I had on here because it lead me to realize that the media is very deceptive, so my quest for truth began. The answer threw me for a loop, because 6 months ago I would have been the LAST person to talk about God/Jesus. When my mom would bring it up in the past, my body would physically reject her and my thoughts immediately turned hateful, like my mind would be begging her to stop talking. Talking about God use to trigger me, but now I can freely speak about Him with such peace and clarity.
The devil is real, guys. Most evil masquerades as light, promising your true personal desires. I mean, how else would you deceive masses of people into darkness? Through false light. He’s messing with this fandom so much and it breaks my heart seeing how obsessed he’s made us with celebrities. They can’t fill the emptiness within you, only Jesus can do that. When Adam and Eve chose to rebel, one of the main internal consequences of this was being separated from God. Only when people are walking in union with God do they find their meaning and purpose in being alive, because God created us to have a purpose. How many of you are depressed? Have been suicidal? Have body image issues? Are insecure? It’s because you have a veil blocking you from seeing the beauty in God’s creation that is you. You need to let go of whatever deception is holding you back. Die to it and be made new - it’s a truly beautiful, eye-opening metamorphosis.
As people grow, they seek meaning from money, pleasure, status, mysticism, religion, self-actualization, and anything else from which they think they might find fulfillment. Guys, we suffer from an identity crisis! My identity is no longer in Taylor, my sexuality, politics or whatever this musty world has to offer. My identity is in Christ alone, because Jesus is the only one who can save you from death. I’ve experienced healing from depression, anxiety and fear firsthand, so please don’t try to view me as some nut forcing religion down your throat. Sure, I still have some off days, but they pale in comparison to how I used to feel. I’m filled with so much joy and freedom now, and this is a feeling I want everyone to experience!
God doesn’t care for religion, all He wants is a relationship with you through His word. He wants to give you wisdom and understanding of how this world really operates, but you have to repent (turn away from you old life) and follow Jesus to get there. We are all imperfect and in need of a savior; humbly acknowledge it. Ask God to reveal Himself to you. Listen and stay present in your surroundings. Think of memories in your past that stick out to you, because they can help reveal your purpose. God has you remember certain things for a reason, mainly so that it can lead you back to Him.
Again, I am not here to paint Taylor as some kind of maniacal mastermind, so please don’t think I am hating on her because I’m not. How she cares for her fans, friends and family reveal a character most people need to adopt. I care for her and pray for her daily, but knowing what I know now, I can’t justify watching this intense idolization from her fans go by anymore. You’re stuck in a trance and aren’t even aware of it - trust me, I know from firsthand experience. Listen to the words of this old Christmas song she self-wrote about Jesus years back.
I want nothing but the best for you. I hope whoever reads this knows my intentions come from a place of love.
Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. | Colossians 3:5
Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. | Galatians 4:8
This saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” - and I am the worst of them. But I received mercy for this reason, so that in me, the worst of them, Christ Jesus might demonstrate his extraordinary patience as an example to those who would believe in him for eternal life. | Timothy 1:15-16
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! | 2 Corinthians 5:17
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lauwrite1225 · 4 years
Text
Broken Crown || Finan x OC || Chapter 3.
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Summary :  Since the day he has been enslaved, Finan never thought that he would have to face his origins. But when an old friend made his arrival to Wessex, the Irishman his forced to deal with his past.
(Flashbacks are in italic.)
English isn’t my first language, if you see any mistakes, tell me :)
Warning : None. (I assure you, there will be warnings one day lol)
03 || GHOST
 “Ailis!” The Irishwoman stopped when she heard her name. She sighed. The meeting had been a disaster and she didn’t want to deal with it for the moment. She turned around to face the man who called her. He was still walking to reach her. His raven hair was a real mess and his beard must have been cut not long ago. As he approached, her eyes slowly opened wide, as she just seen a ghost.
“Finan…” She murmured. He stopped a few steps away from her. For a moment she hesitated. But she could easily recognize his brown pupils, the shape of his nose and his small smile. God, this smile that she thought she will never see again. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tears streamed down her face when she felt him tighten her waist.
After a moment, she moved away from his embrace. She took his face between her hands to stare at him closer. His eyes were also wet, but she knew it was of joy. There were new scars on his face, the one on his forehead was the only one she knew. He looked older too, but it was still him.
“I thought you would be dead.” She said softly, still uncertain of whether she should trust her vision. It’s been so long since he was gone. After years, she had accepted the truth. He would never come back. But there he was. Safe and sound.
“I am pretty alive.” He answered, smirking, ear to ear.
“Oh, God.” She hugged him once more. She had so many questions. So much to understand. But for the moment she wanted to enjoy their reunion. She held him tight, almost scared that he’ll disappeared if she didn’t.
“Finan.” Raised a strong voice further in the corridor. Her friend withdrew his arms from her waist and turned to the man who called him. He looked like a Dane with his long hair and the sides of his head shaved. “You know her?”
“I do. She’s an old friend.” He explained, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Ailis, this is Lord Uhtred. A great man.”
“You made a big impression with the Witan.” He said, almost amused. She rolled her eyes, wanting to avoid the discussion.
“Have you known each other for a long time?” She asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She was curious to know how Finan ended up here, in Winchester. For the little hope she kept of finding him, this was certainly not a place where she expected to see him nor in such good health.
“Too long to count.” Uhtred laughed.
“Then where did you meet?” The two men faces became dismal. Finan’s eyes met hers and she shivered. There meet wasn’t a nice story.
“On a slave ship.” Finan answered. She bit her lower lip. She felt her heart squeezing at the idea of what he has been through. The guilt made its way in her mind. But Finan spoke again, on a lighter tone and made it disappear for a moment. “We were rescued by Uhtred’s brother. Since then, I am pledge to Uhtred.”
“And now he is one of the three bastards who fight with me.” Uhtred smirked as he wrapped an arm around Finan’s shoulder.
“Bastards?” She frowned, not knowing if he was joking.
“Yes, all my men are bastard’s son. Like that, I am sure they won’t come back with an army if I don’t pay them.” He laughed.
“Yes, of course.” She glared at Finan, a smile hiding his embarrassment.
“Well. Maybe we could talk outside.” The Irishman declared. Ailis nodded and the three of them walked out of the palace.
The woman didn’t have the time to enjoy the city. She had arrived late at night and had slept only few hours before the Witan, in a chamber that was loan to her in the palace. Her journey to Winchester had not been easy either. The two guards accompanying her died, killed by brigand on the royal road. Since, Ailis was alone and always on her guard. Now that she was at Winchester, she hoped that she could have some rest.
While they were walking, Ailis tried to learn more about Uhtred. The man was intriguing and she wasn’t disappointed when he explained her who he was: Uhtred fo Bebbanburg. This name had crossed the sea more than once. His prowess were shouted and sang in Ireland just like in all England.
After half an hour of talking, Uhtred excused himself for having to leave. Ailis and Finan were now alone in the loud streets of Winchester. An awkward silent grew between them. Ailis wanted to ask him so many questions about how he survived and what happened to him during all these years. But she couldn’t help but only think of his lie.
“Why haven’t you told him the truth?” She finally asked.
“About what?” Finan looked up to her. She huffed, knowing perfectly that he knew what truth she mentioned.
“Who you are!”
“Would that change anything? I’ve been banished from Ireland and I’ve been made a slave. I don’t have any title anymore. I’m not worthier than a bastard.”
“But that’s not who you are!” She understood that she had spoken to loud when she felt some gazes on her. Finan clenched his jaw and took her arm to lead her somewhere else.
After few minutes of walks, they entered an alehouse. There was already a lot of people but Finan did not take a table. Instead, he walked up stairs and opened the door of a chamber. It was really simple, just a bed, a chair and a table. Finan let go his grip on her arm and he sat on the bed.
“Listen, Ailis. I thought this life was behind me. I thought I would never see you again, nor Conall, nor anyone else.” She couldn’t tell if it was sadness in his eyes. She used to know him like the back of her hand when they were younger. But now? He has changed. He’s been through a lot because of what he did. Wasn’t it understandable that he wanted to move on? To Ailis, it was, but not upon a lie.
“Fine.” She nodded. She didn’t want to argue with him. Not just after finding him. She sat next to him and put a hand on his knee. She looked up at him, a smile on her face. It could never have been more sincere. Finan was her greatest friend when they were kid. His loss was one the hardest thing she had to deal with in her life. Seeing him safe and sound warmed her heart in such a strange way. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you.”
“And I am too.” He said squeezing her hand. They remained silent a moment, just staring at each other. Finan finally removed his hand and ran it through his hair. “So, how is your life? Are you married?” He asked as his own curiosity took advantage.
“No, not yet.” She answered, looking away.
“No man has succeeded to take your heart?” He said in a mischievous tone.
“There was one.” She admitted. “But we did not have the time to marry.” Finan frowned as she started to play with the bottom of her shirt.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized while his smile disappeared.
“He was a simple man with a simple life. All I always wanted.” She stopped, feeling her throat tighten. He died a long time ago, but still, it hurt her to speak of it. She slowly shook her head, trying to estrange the memories from her mind. “But I guess it wasn’t God’s will for me.” She looked back to Finan’s brown eyes. “I have a duty to fulfill.”
“Serving Conall?”
“Serving any man who would have taken the crown.” She corrected him. “That’s what my father wanted.” Finan slowly nodded.
“How Conall did become… King?”
“Well, King Lugaid died not long after you were gone. Irial succeed him but he died one year after, in battle against the Danes. After that they established a settlement in the South of Ulaid. Conall get the support of my father and some Lords to be the new King. Since, he had only one thing in mind, getting rid of them. Two years ago, we defeated them.”
“Sigtryggr’s settlement?”
“One of. After we had heard of his loss of Dyflin, Conall thought it was the right time to attack. But now they want revenge.” She sighed as she lied her back on the bed. “I need to speak to the King.”
“You sure he will talk to you again after the Witan?” He laughed. She rolled her eyes and got up.
“I should go back to the palace, get some sleep. But I still have a lot of question for you.” She gently smiled at him and he gave it back to her.
“I’ll wait for you on the palace’s stairs, tonight.”
“Tonight then.”
 …
 The room was filled with the strong laughs of the King and Ailis’ father. The red hair girl was sat at the large table, just in front of Conall. He was back in Navan Fort after travelling during months in all Ireland. As he promised to Finan, years earlier, he left the city after their father’s death.
“Nephew, maybe you could present us the woman you have guested to my table.” Said the King pointing to the young woman sat next to Conall. She hadn’t spoken since the beginning of the dinner, only thanks to the maid. She wasn’t comfortable here and it was easy to see that. Her eyes never travelled away from her plate.
“Well actually, she’s not a guest.” Said Conall. He put down his cutleries and gently took the woman’s hand, grabbing her attention. “Moira is my wife.” He kissed the back of her hand and she gave him a shy but lovely smile.
“How much did you pay her, brother?” Finan teased him, making the King laugh once more. Ailis kicked her friend’s arm with her elbow while trying to hold her smirk. As children, the two brothers always annoyed each other and even as men, their habit did not disappear.
“You have a beautiful wife Conall. Even if it’s too late, you have my blessing.” Announced Lugaid, raising his cup.
“Thank you, uncle.” Smiled Conall before drinking some wine.
“Where do you come from?” Asked Ailis to Moira.
“Ó Domhnaill, Lady.” She answered on a soft voice, her cheeks turning red.  
“Call me Ailis. Please.” Ailis may not know the woman yet, she already liked her. Her timidity made her endearing. But she hoped Moira would grow more at ease with time. Being shy in a royal court wasn’t always a good thing.
“What were you there?” Demanded Dealla. The Uì Néill princess was sitting next to Finan, one of her fingers making circles on her swelling belly. She was expecting her second child. Almost a year earlier, she gave birth to healthy boy, Rohan. Dealla was a thoughtful mother, always wanting to take care of her son by herself. Finan was more distant. Being a father was a thing he find hard to admit. But he loved his son, Ailis was sure of that.
“A simple maid, Lady.” She said, almost ashamed. Dealla raised her eyebrows, but she said nothing.
The dinner proceeded well. Conall related stories from his travel. The young man was a good story teller. When they were kids, he spent hours narrating adventures of old Irish heroes to Ailis. But not everyone was attentive to his words. As Ailis turned to Finan, she observed his gaze was on Moira. Once the young Prince noticed his friend was watching him, he looked away, biting his lower lip. Ailis frowned but she quickly turned her attention to Conall again.
How could she know that this simple gaze would be the beginning of a terrible thing?
A/N : I am so happy to publish this chapter! Mostly to expose you my theory about the fact that Finan didn’t talk about his true identity to Uhtred and the others hehe. I thought that for the first time when Osferth said to Eadith that he was an Irish bastard. It can also be just an insult to joke. But I remembered than in season 3, when Finan mentionned his father funeral, Uhtred seemed surprised that he knew his father. And as we can see in the show, bastard children do not have a lot of relations with their fathers. 
Sooo I kept the theory for the story heheh. 
Thank you for your likes, reglogs and comments, those are precious to me <3
Tagged : @astral-finan @geekandbooknerd @pokeasleepingsmaug @queen-manning @kelly-fasel @naihqh @ucancallmechlo  <3
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candlelight27 · 4 years
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The Golden Deer And The Alabaster Doe
Summary:  After the war, everyone changed, including Marianne, who is trying to find her happy ever after. This leads her to visit Claude in Almyra, where he's been for years.
Warnings: Explicit sex - quite tame and vanilla though, friends to lovers, post timeskip, SMUT, Fluff.
Pairings: Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan
Word Count: 4361
AO3: The Golden Deer And The Alabaster Doe
A/N: I’m working on the Sylvain series but needed to get this out of my chest. Claude is my best boy after all... welp, hope you enjoy it anyways <3
Marianne arrived at night, when the sky of the desert is filled with stars and the cold makes its way to you bones.
Her camel stopped at the big doors of stone, where two guards let her enter the city. The place, so different from her homeland, was in complete silence. There were a few torches lighting their way to the palace.
Marianne felt a familiar thrill in her heart, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Ever since the war ended – the last time she had seen Claude. She recalled the sweet but distant memories of Garreg Mach, how Claude tried his best to understand her, to observe her, how she had convinced her to pursue what she wanted, even if she felt undeserving. The Almyran was so persuasive she almost confessed her love to him. Yet that bliss was cut short when war broke out and the death and duty was all she had time to think of. In that moment, all they could have been together was plucked out of her.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed by. She had matured, no longer as tortured as her younger self, and she had learnt to make herself useful next to Margrave Edmund. In fact, her adoptive father harboured the hope that she would inherit his lands at his passing. That understanding between father and daughter was what made Marianne take a chance, a step against all she had done when she felt undeserving of living.
This was the first time Marianne had done something remotely selfish. She asked her father for permission to travel to Almyra, and he accepted without objection. Then, she wrote a letter to Claude. She spent hours that night writing and crumpling papers. Too cold, too intrusive, too improper, too needy – nothing was good enough. In the morning, feeling more like herself, she wrote the first thing that came to her mind and sent it.
And a few weeks later Claude sent back a letter welcoming to his home in Almyra, right where she was headed.
The closer they were to the palace, the more nervous she was. Lost in thoughts about protocols and rules, memories and hopes for the future, almost without realising where she was, the small procession arrived and entered the enormous building.
The entrance hall left her in awe. It was as big as Garreg Mach’s had been but decorated with infinitely more opulence. From the ceiling hung silks made in confines of the East, while the lamps had been made with the finest gold and silver from Faerghus, surely a kind present from the actual King, Dimitri. Marianne walked along a rug whose intricate pattern was coloured yellow and green. She scanned the place, looking for someone among the emptiness. On the other edge of the stay, just opposite to where she was looking at, a shadow was moving in the darkness. She turned her head to the sound.
“You can go back to you posts. Thank you for escorting our guest.” The rich voice reverberated throughout the stay. Marianne couldn’t supress the smile that crept to her lips when she recognized the person who had come to greet her.
Claude stepped into the light, the fire of the candles and lamps kissing his tanned skin and colouring his eyes of amber. Her pulse shot up.
He was just as handsome as Marianne remembered him. His clever eyes were tired, yet they carried the glint of a man filled with content. After all, Almyra’s relationship with Fódland had never been better than at the current time, and house Goneril was favouring a long-lasting peace by the hands of Hilda. She felt a pang of jealousy noticing they must have seen each other frequently.
“The servants are in bed. I hope you don’t mind that only your old friend is here to welcome you”, started Claude at ease, as if he had seen her the previous day and not many years ago.
“I actually prefer it that way,” she answered sweetly. Claude approached her with slow and deliberate steps. Discreetly, he observed her and captured her featured with his pupils.
“May I take you to your room?”, he asked, offering his hand for her to take it. She nodded and accepted. The Almyran man linked his arm to hers to guide her across the mosaic of corridors and doors.
For the first time in forever, Claude was nervous – and after a hundred of meetings with a lot of older men and women who belittled him, he had forgotten the feel. Marianne was more beautiful than he remembered. In their academy days, she used to be like a fawn walking through life wobbly and unsure, tender, innocent, scared, a prey. Yet now, the animal he’d use to describe her would be doe. She was graceful and majestic. If he didn’t know better, Claude would think he was before none other than the queen of Fódland – which would had been a shame, because it would mean Dimitri was her husband. Still, all the differences Claude spotted hadn’t change her core at all. She had that caring air, that serenity she always had. And she had a brightness he couldn’t decipher.
The first surprise Marianne gave him was the she was the one to start the a conversation.
He had been convinced he’d have to make an effort to ease her and make her comfortable in order to coat any monosyllable out of her. He had been ready, he prepared questions, pieces of news. But the soon-to-be heir of Mangrave Edmund spoke first.
“How have you been, Claude? We haven’t seen each other in… ages. We have to catch up.”
Marianne even looked at him in the eye, totally disarming him. Not that she could notice, because he knew how to compose himself in a matter of seconds. Some things never change, and Claude would never reveal his cards so soon. Yet, he had to admit, it was truly amusing.
“Frankly, I’ve been busy. So busy.” Claude sighed. “Working on a political alliance with Fódland wasn’t easy and keeping a durable peace while pleasing every part is turning out to be a complete challenge. I’m not complaining, things are going great and according to plan… but it’s like I don’t have time to myself anymore.”
“It’s comprehensible you feel that way, Claude”, Marianne said, with a certainty in her tone he had never heard. It did soothe him. “You are pouring you heart on your mission. You are dedicating your life to your people. I know it’s hard, but it’s what make you a good king.”
“You seem to be informed of my affairs,” Claude tried her, testing the waters.
“I am.” Her simple reply didn’t leave him much to use.
“Did you miss me that much?”
“Me? I…” Marianne doubted what she could say. But the new self she found within her relied on sincerity and worried little about the aftermath when she didn’t have anything to lose. “Yes, Claude. I missed you.” She let out a giggle out of nervousness, ringing bells for Claude. “I can’t lie, I was quite bored when you disappeared off to Almyra.”
“The call of duty”, he shrugged. “Had I known that… and I would have visited.”
After what felt like an eternity walking – and conversing –, Claude stopped before a dark wooden door.
“This is your room,” he stated.
The former Golden Deer leader was ready to call it a day and go to bed. He was indeed tired. A part of him wanted his lovely visitor to beg him to stay, to chat a bit more, mirroring his own wishes, but Marianne had never been that kind of person. But what if? He didn’t walk away, he just stood still, as if something was telling him Marianne only needed a little push to do the second thing remotely selfish she had ever done in her life.
“Are you busy tomorrow?”, she murmured the question tentatively.
“Actually, no. I took some days off meetings to attend a very special guest that was coming from Fódland”, he smiled.
“Then why don’t you stay a little while? I’d love to talk to you a little bit more. It feels like the old days.”
She curled her toes in her shoes, anxious. But of course, he wasn’t going to deny her. Her hunch about Claude was correct. So, he muttered a confident ‘sure’, hiding his surprise, and opened the door for her. She slid past Claude and took in her new stay for the next few months.
She marvelled at the beauty and exquisiteness of the decoration. Every little detail, like the flowers, similar to the ones she had in her room at Garreg Mach, like the small statue of the goddess, like some books beautifully bounded and regarding Fódland’s matters, all those details suggested Claude had personally made all the arrangements to make her feel at home. And it made her heart throb. A teapot caught her eye, as its scent reached her.
“Is that lavender tea?”, she asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, it is.” Claude’s back was facing Marianne and he composed a satisfied smile at her surprise.
“How did you know it was my favourite?”
“I have my ways.” Claude realized in that moment that he loved the sound of her voice when she was pleased, and he hadn’t heard it before. It made him want to fulfil her every wish right there and then. “Go on, help yourself.”
Marianne poured two cups of tea. The Almyran took a seat in a mahogany chair, its legs sculpted like the claws of a lion, and took the warm cups in his hands.
Marianne couldn’t help but stare at him. He was no longer the Claude she remembered, not quite the same. He was a grown man, shaped by a war and the power of a king. His shoulders were broad and strong, and the muscles of his arms, hardened by the use of his bow, couldn’t be hidden by his loose clothes. The cheeks of the young girl from Fódland turned crimson. When did her thoughts shelter lechery? But she forgot all her modesty as her eyes reached his shaped jaw, angles covered with facial hair styled in the fashion of his land. His irises instantly captivated her, watching her every move. They looked like they were made from seawater. He had the kindest gaze she had ever seen in a man of his position, and that could never change.
“I have to be honest here,” Claude started, putting the cup away, “but your letter a month ago stating that you were coming was the last thing I was expecting.” He laughed, a perfect song to Marianne’s ears. “I thought I’d never see you again. Or that I’d have to go there by myself to finally see you… any of the Golden Deer, I mean. I’ve been meaning to send you a letter… or something. But I never found the time.”
“Don’t worry. I’m here, after all,” she tried to soothe him, sipping her tea. He opened his mouth, then closed it as if he regretted even thinking what he wanted to say.
“I can’t believe I choose to be a coward now of all times.” He shook his head from side to side.
“You are not a coward, Claude. In the name of the Goddess, what are you talking about?”
“Yes, yes. You are right. I haven’t said anything.” Claude smiled, but he was hiding something, and it twinkled in his eyes, trying to get out. He tried to lighten up the mood distracting her attention. “Are you married?”
“No!” Marianne blushed, then giggled, as if it was the oddest question in the world.
“But you must have thousands of proposals.”
“I’ve had a few.” She ignored his comment, and the question in her heart of he’d propose to her given the right circumstances. “But father… I mean Margrave Edmund said he wanted me to decide. I rejected them because I didn’t know them.”
“Quite the peculiar Margrave, not after benefits, but her daughter’s happiness,” Claude pointed out.
“And you?”, asked Marianne, her eyes round with curiosity. “Are you married?”
“Wouldn’t have you heard about it if I were?”, he laughed again, yet then a bitter tongue coated his tongue. “No, of course not. Although… people are pestering me. You know, a king must have babies and wives – well, one at least. Ever since Dimitri’s wedding with Byleth, it’s been a nonstop pressure to find someone.”
Marianne put her teacup away and took Claude’s hands in hers. She would have wanted to hug him and press him against her chest, to tell him that everything was going to be fine. It was obvious that the man was affected by the situation. Yet the only thing she could do was showing compassion with that small touch. Still, her pale hands comforted him immensely.
“You’ll find love when you least expect it. Don’t listen to them. And don’t let it concern you that much.”
“Finding love isn’t really what’s concerning me,” he ended up confessing at last. Marianne doubted if she should press him to continue, but curiosity got the best of her.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s… the person I love might not love me back. I don’t deserve her.” Marianne furrowed her brows. She was about to talk, but Claude cut her right before she did. “And even if that worked… I don’t think she’d be happy to leave all she has behind in order to be with me. It’s not that easy, Marianne.”
“You are reminding me of when I was young.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why don’t you begin at the beginning?”
“And that is?”
“Confessing your love”, she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I told you I become a coward when the most important decisions ought to be made. I wouldn’t… even if she was… right in front of me right now.”
Marianne then committed another act that surprised herself. It wasn’t exactly selfish, but it was definitely something she wouldn’t have dared to think about some years ago. She was completely sure Claude was talking about her. His glance was declaring his love for her out loud. The way he looked and melted at her touch was revealing the truth behind his secrecy.
Before performing any action, she thought of the consequences. Should she be wrong, would he be mad? Probably not. And if he was, what was the worst that could happen? She’d have to leave Almyra eventually and she’d never hear of him again. But it was probably the exact same thing that would be happening if she didn’t do anything.
She was feeling self-conscious. Her legs were shaking. She couldn’t even breathe. But she didn’t let any of those impediments deter her. She had decided she was going to be the master of her fate, so she would take the chance.
Slowly, Marianne leant in, her eyes closed. The silent of the night wrapped around them. And then, when she finally reached his lips, she kissed him.
Claude stayed still, which she considered a small victory. Her rosy lips were unbelievably tender on his own. He could have sworn time had stopped right away. How could someone so precious as her want him? He didn’t have the answer. He was handsome, but he was sure that was not the only feature a girl like Marianne would be looking for. But he was one to seize his opportunities, so he kissed her back and let his eyelids fall.
The kiss soon turned desperate. Claude placed his hands on the back of her head as he caressed her blue locks, and Marianne just melted in his touch. And a kiss became two, three, and many more. They were tentative, indecisive; they were trying to figure out what the other wanted, neither of them believing what was happening. Between breathy moans, the Almyran dared to use his tongue to seek hers. He’d swear he could spend the rest of his life like that.
“Claude…”, Marianne murmured with her sweet voice.
“What are we doing, Marianne?”, asked Claude, assaulted by his uncertainty.
“Whatever you want,” she smiled, “whatever we want.” The were so close, their nose were almost touching.
“I… Do you love me?” Claude felt so vulnerable he wanted to cry. But he needed to know.
“With all my heart, Claude. I love you.”
Claude then stood up. In a manner as delicate as a rose petal, he undid Marianne’s updo. Her silky, periwinkle hair fell down her back and shoulders like a waterfall. His hands took her cheeks and dove in to kiss her once again.
She fell back on the soft mattress slowly. During the few seconds they stayed apart, his dexterous fingers loosened all the bows, knots and buttons holding her dress together. One of his digits drew a line from her jaw to her clavicle, paying special attention to her neck. Marianne felt how her nipples got hard against the fabric of her clothes.
His next movement was taking off the loose white shirt he was wearing. The gaze of Marianne, his old friend – and now, lover –, was intense, like the one a hungry beast would display. Her pupils were completely black and taken by desire. Marianne herself discarded her dress, too impatient to wait. Her heart was thriving, and she had never felt more alive. She rose to her knees, letting Claude take a good look at her.
Claude thought she was breath-taking. He couldn’t fix his gaze anywhere else. She reminded him of the white marble statues of the goddess he could find around Fódland, with the difference that Marianne could be someone whom he could give his devotion. Her pale skin was practically glowing under the candlelight. Where could he start? One night was not enough to put into practice all the ideas that were crossing his mind.
“Can I touch you?”, was the only thing that he managed to vocalize.
“Please.”
He grabbed one of her tempting breasts, kneading it while he left a trail of kisses that led to the other. Marianne trembled and whined, too overwhelmed to understand all those sensations yet willing to indulge and pursue those pleasures.
Claude licked his lover’s perk nipple. She gripped his dark locks of hair, then moved to scratch his back. Claude felt his leather pants were too tight when his bulge started growing at every scratch Marianne gave him. Still, he didn’t stop and grew even bolder placing his wide hand upon the apex of her thighs.
“You like what I’m doing, don’t you?”, he smirked to himself. “You’re already pretty wet.”
“Not playing shy anymore?”, she answered, with that unprecedented confidence Claude was starting to love.
“I’ve got better things to play with”, said Claude, and as a reward he gained a laugh of her fair mouth.
As he slid a finger into her wetness, she took his face with both hands to plant a hot kiss on his lips. He responded eagerly, offering his tongue, and putting in a second one without any resistance. Marianne welcomed the addition vocally. There was fire in her veins, and bolts of delight went all over her body.
The more adventurous his movements were, the more her hunger grew. Claude was making her feel things she had never felt, yet something within her wanted more. And she wasn’t dumb, she knew Claude was starting to get uncomfortable under his pants.
“Why don’t you take your pants off?”, her voice was the perfect mixture between suggestiveness and purity. She was going to drive him crazy.
“My sweet Marianne, I’ll gladly comply your orders.”
“Is the king tired of commanding other people?”, the tease rolled out of her mouth effortlessly.
“Perhaps.”
“My poor king.” Oh, what Claude would give to hear Marianne saying that while he made love to her.
When he undid his belt and buttons, Marianne kept provoking him. She scratched the skin under his navel with her sharp nails. Claude inhaled loudly. He might have never been this turned on in his life.
“Are you sure this is what you want? There’s no going back once we do this.”
“There is no going back since you crossed the doorstep, Claude,” she said as she guided him to the bed. He threw his pants on the floor.
“How could have you changed so much?” He stuttered. “It’s not that I don’t like it. Or, well, it’s not that you changed entirely. But-” Marianne stopped his rambling.
“I’m merely making the decisions that will make me happy.”
“This might not have a happy ending”, he pointed out.
“If that happens, at least we’ll have something to remember.” She made a pained face but gained her smiled back rapidly. “And right now, I feel beyond happy.”
“You… you are right. Let’s indulge.”
Claude now stood proud and naked. She admired his erection, because it was the first time she saw one in that situation. Claude laughed at her wide eyes, and gleefully Marianne led him on top of her. Claude kissed her once more – and if it had been up to him, he’d kissed her until the end of time – and she noticed his hard member pressing against her thighs.
Having his body caging her and taking in his warmth made her head go dizzy. For Claude, on the other hand, it was as if a spell had been suddenly broken. The contrast of her alabaster frame and his skin of sun and desert, his hardness and her softness, it was as if someone had made her just for him. He felt greedy, but overall, he felt whole.
“Go on,” she mumbled. “I need you inside of me.”
Claude entered her in a slow rhythm to be able to watch her face. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t any pain, and so far, her face only had shown pleasure. The Almyran felt overwhelmed sunk in her essence, but it didn’t distract him. Her expressions were precious to him, and he wanted to see every detail.
“Does it feel good?”, he asked concerned.
“Yes… it feels different from your fingers.”
“Good different…?” He stopped.
“Too good. Don’t- Keep going, my king.”
His member twitched. He laughed to mask the aphrodisiac that name was to him, and then he started thrusting. Once more, he was being careful, but it wasn’t as easy as before. He was constant, but it was difficult to keep a pace.
“I love this, Claude. My king.”
Marianne was completely lost in the moment. She accustomed herself to his manhood quickly and waggled her hips to chase the close promise of her orgasm. The hot pleasure was constant, as if Claude was her other half and they just clicked perfectly. They were so close that all his body rubbed against her, and it was doing indescribable things to her.
Just like their conversations used to be, she was timid but concise and clear, while Claude was an organized mess of passion. Marianne couldn’t contain herself and roamed his back with her nails. She was beginning in the devotion of the flesh, but she was sure she just needed a little push to come.
“You are screaming, Marianne.”
“Does it matter?” She had been so absorbed, she had neglected on keeping it quiet. But she didn’t want to get him into trouble.
“No, who’s going to scold us, anyways? Besides, I adore the way you call me.”
He pushed himself firmly, over and over. He heard the echo of his name and almost lost his mind. Abruptly he grasped her thigh and lifted it, allowing his bulge to dive in deeper. He squeezed her flesh, leaving red marks where his fingers were, making Marianne go wilder.
“Please, Claude, make me come.”
He didn’t need any more cues, and he kept going, trying angles, pinching everything he could reach, kissing and biting her neck, until Marianne’s eyes were blurry. She tried to keep up, making her hips meet his when she could, but when she felt the rush of her peak, she let herself go. The repetitive clench of her wetness was enough to make Claude come too. Still, he had enough sense in him to take himself out and finish on her stomach.
A couple of seconds later, when Claude caught his breath, he reached for a cloth and dutifully cleaned her. She was gasping in the afterglow but looking sharply every move Claude made. He kissed her shoulder.
“We have things to talk about,” Claude began. “I love you, Marianne.”
“I love you too, Claude, but everything you want to ask me can wait until morning.” She extended one of her lover’s arms, using it to rest her head, and placed the other around her waist, so he was hugging her form. “But something tells me you already know the answers.”
“I’m worried about how we are going to make it work,” he confessed. He was surprised at her calmness, but if he was being honest, it was appeasing him.
“We’ll come up with something as long as we don’t give up. And I don’t intend to give you up.” She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want this to be a beautiful memory to hang on the wall of memories. I want to be on your side forever.”
“What about Mangrave Edmund?”, he asked.
“Claude, don’t anticipate problems we might not encounter.” She composed a smile, her eyes closed halfway. She was captivating him. “Do you want this to be a thing of one night?”
“No! No. Marianne I want to marry you. Who knows for how long I’ve wanted. I’m just… Since the war ended and took so much from us, I’m scared of losing any happiness. Of losing you.” He kissed her cheek. “Okay, I’ll trust you on this, since you seem so sure. Just, don’t disappear, please.”
“Try to sleep, Claude. I’m here.”
Claude closed his eyes and he fell asleep as he hadn’t in years.
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dylshoney · 5 years
Text
when you’re ready
 requests:  maybe a shawn fic based on “when you’re ready” but you’re not the girl he sung about? and the girl shows up 10 years later and tries to get him back and you guys have been together for like 3 years and it just causes insecurities ?? does this make sense?? (love your work btw❤️)
Hellurrr! I have a request, if you will? TW Anxiety Attack Like if the female!reader has an anxiety attack because she thinks she's not good enough so Shawn helps her and holds her?
a/n: this was my first time trying to write angst (cause im usually an optimistic ass bitch) so if its bad just lie and scroll post ahahaha but i wanted to try and @superiorsoph sent this request in and i couldnt resist. im sorry i didnt follow it exactly, but i hope you like it love.
warnings: language, angst
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“Stay still!”
 You hear him say for the umpteenth time, but you pretend not to hear him, twirling around in the dress, laughing and shaking your hips.
 He makes noises of disgruntlement and soon you hear the shutter of his camera go off, the flash blinding you for a few seconds, but you don’t care. You glide over to the full-length mirror on one side of the store and smile at your reflection. He was right, the dress is gorgeous.
 You push down the fabric, loving the smoothness under your fingers and twirl once more. You can see Shawn roll his eyes in the reflection, but you can see the hint of a smile threatening to peak through. He places his camera back in the casing and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning down to press his head on your shoulder.
 You’re both silent for a moment, just staring at the pair of you in the mirror. You hum, your head falling back into him, “I think we found the one.”
 “I told you I’d be useful,” he tuts, pinching your hip. You flinch, turning around to smack his chest, “You only just started being useful. The past hour has been torture.”
 He’s laughing, the beautiful crinkles on his face making your heart melt but you love teasing him, so you can’t give in just yet, “Trying on twenty dresses definitely wasn’t necessary.”
 “No.” He agrees, smiling down at you with a shit- eating grin. “But we had to test all out options, didn’t we?”
 You shake your head, turning back around to see yourself in the reflection, triple-checking that this was the right choice.
 “You have to delete those photos, you know?”
 “No!” He sounds almost offended. “Those are memories, there’s no way I’m getting rid of that.”
 “But I look horrid,” you pout, blinking innocently.
 “Don’t give me that face,” he shakes his head, “They’re all blurry anyway.”
 You grin victoriously, winking at him, “The music in here is just too good – I couldn’t resist.”
 He pauses for a moment, raising his finger to the ceiling, eyebrows raised. You focus on the sound of #Selfie by the Chainsmokers, your ears getting hot as you begin to nod slowly, “It has a nice rhythm?”
 He shakes his head, but you’re already dancing again – thankful that there was no one else in the store on an early Wednesday morning.
 “If you dance like that tonight, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”
 You ignore him, taking his large hand into yours and spinning into him, his laughter getting louder as the two of you stumble around together.
 The music changes to Troye Sivan’s Dance to This and you squeal a bit, getting overly excited as the two of your start shouting the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You can see the nice sales associate trying to contain her giggles as she pretends not to watch you, but you don’t care.
 You’re watching Shawn. Your eyes never leaving him as he throws his head back, laughing as you mess up the lyrics. His hands pull you into him, your chest hitting his as you begin doing some sort of heightened version of a slow dance. His hands are warm against you, sending a current of energy through your body.
 You’ve never smiled wider in your life, your heart clenching as he places a kiss on your forehead and you can’t believe that you’re still so in love with him after two years of being together. It’s never stopped being butterflies and sweaty palms with him – you’re body reacting to his touch like it was the first time.
 Everyone around you recognized that as well, even the sales associate as she checked out the dress a few minutes later. You two are adorable, how long have you been engaged?
 Shawn had squeezed your hand extra hard as the two of you tried to contain your giggles, explaining to her that the ring on your finger was a promise one. But Shawn made sure to add that he was hoping to fulfill that promise soon.
 You felt like you were on cloud nine, leaving the store with a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You knew that Shawn was it for you, never once doubting that he was the person you were going to marry.
 You just didn’t expect that maybe; you weren’t it for him too.
 *
 Later that night you found yourself at yet another event with Shawn, wearing the pretty red dress and smiling widely as people approached you.
 You were happy to find that you could easily recognize and talk to many people, a stark comparison to how you were when you had just started going out with Shawn. You were more confident now, excepting that you belonged next to Shawn, that if you stood up straight and acted like you were meant to be there – people would believe it too.
 You were sipping a Shirley temple, bopping your head lightly to the beat of the song radiating through the room, talking to Lina – the daughter of a famous record producer. She was probably your closest friend related to the industry, but she was usually too busy to attend these kind of parties – so you were taking in every second you could get with her.
 “Ok look at Marsha,” Lina lifted her chin, motioning to a woman a few meters away from you, “She’s about to go talk to Roger. For the sixth time tonight.”
 “No way.” You shook your head, cringing as Marsha started making her way over to the older man again. “He’s said no to her single like a million times already.”
 “Have you heard it?”
 “No.” You paused, “Wait? Have you?!”
 She snorted, “I wish I didn’t.”
 “Come one!” You threw your head back, “I would have paid to see your reaction.”
 “I can perform some for you, if you’d like?”
 You were quick to shake your head, but she was already going.
 “If I could fly … I would never leave you dry ….”
 “Stop! Please!” You were bent over, holding your stomach as you tried to contain your laughter. She was so off pitch that you were tempted to cover your ears.
 “Maybe we could last forever ….”
 “I don’t know what sadder,” you heaved, “The song – or the fact that you know it by heart.”
 “She made me listen to it six times!”
 “That sounds like – ”
 “Excuse me.” You turned around at the sound of the voice, feeling a light touch on your shoulder. You were greeted with the sight of a beautiful blonde staring at you with a small smile.
 “Hi.” You were quick to return the grin, trying to figure out if you remembered her from somewhere. She looked oddly familiar.
 “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Shawn?”
 You smiled, “I can go get him for you. Give me just a second.”
 “Thank you so much!”
 You found Shawn in the back, talking to someone you recognized to be very important, but his eyes lit up and he was on his feet the second he saw you.
 “Hey angel, everything okay?”
“Hey,” you nodded as he wrapped a hand around your waist pulling you to the side, “There’s someone looking for you.”
 You took his hand in yours, leading him through the mass of bodies in the space, over to where Lina and the stranger were waiting.
 “Hey!” Your tone was light as you called out to her, “Found him!”
 She turned around, an expectant look on her face before her eyes finally settled on your boyfriend.
 “Kate.” Shawn’s voice was laced with shock, a smile gracing his features as he let go of your hand and shot forward to hug her.
 You made eye contact with Julia from behind them, her light ones wide and looking at you with something you could only describe as sheer worry. You tilted your head, trying to understand what she was mouthing to you.
 “It’s been so long.” You could hear Shawn say as they pulled apart, his tone laced with something you didn’t recognize.
 “It has. You look amazing, Shawn.” Now that was something you did recognize.
 You placed a hand on Shawn’s back, his eyes wide as he turned back to look at you, almost as if he’d forgotten you were even there.
“Kate,” his eyes were back on her immediately, “This is y/n, my … girlfriend.”
 You hated the hesitation in his voice, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, smiling gently at her, “It’s nice to meet you.”
 “So, how do you two know each other?” Julia stepped forward, sipping on her drink as her narrowed eyes trained on Kate.
 There was a moment of reluctance, which definitely didn’t help with your unease.
 “We go way back.” Shawn finally said, Kate, giggling in response. Your smile faded. So they went way back. That was definitely code for used to date.
 You hated the jealously that flooded through you. Your stomach clenching as your boyfriend continued to stare at the girl with an unrecognizable look.
 Everyone was silent for a moment, Shawn’s eyes not leaving Kate, something you weren’t too happy about. You were used to being the center of his attention. And you felt selfish the second those thoughts filled your mind.
 “What are you doing here?” He asked, the wide grin never leaving his face.
 She smiled for a moment until her eyes traveled over to you and the expression faded, “I uh – was hoping we could talk?”
 You didn’t like the look she was giving you, and you definitely didn’t like the sound of that. But Shawn was nodding and not even a second later he was turning to you, “I’ll be right back.”
 You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you the chance to. He was already walking away, hot on her heels.
 “What the actual fuck.”
 You didn’t know how to answer. So instead you turned over the bar, immediately ordering four shots, making Lina talk them with you.
 You had hoped that the alcohol would ease your nerves, but instead, you found yourself pacing in the bathroom, your head spinning as you tried to explain to Lina what was going on in your mind.
 She did her best to try and calm you, easing your mind that it was nothing. Shawn loved you. It didn’t matter that he was slightly tipsy. Alone. And talking to his ex.
 You trusted him with everything in you, but you didn’t trust the look in Kate’s eyes. And the look in his.
 Shawn came back a half hour later, his eyes bloodshot and begging you to leave with him. You didn’t hesitate to agree, taking his outstretched hand and following him to the car.
 You were both silent for a few moments but there was unspoken tension hanging in the air, your hands folded in your lap – trying to figure out how to phrase your words.
 “Are you going to tell me what happened?” You finally blurted, hating the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
 Shawn was silent for a few seconds, before he cleared his voice, “Everything’s fine. Kate just wanted to catch up.”
 You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “How long were you together for?”
 You could see him tense again, his shoulders tightening, “We weren’t. Almost though.”
 “What happened?”
 “I don’t know. She wasn’t ready, I guess.” His tone was clipped; sounding like he had uttered those words millions of times before. You could feel your breath catch in your throat.
 She wasn’t ready.
 You replayed those words in your head a million times before you could finally utter something else. “When was the last time you saw her?”
 Shawn could sense the uneasiness in your voice, the unfamiliar tremble as you tried to calm your breathing.
 His hand was quick to take yours, twisting it out of the clasp in your lap and holding it in his tightly, “Baby –”
 “I’m just curious – I know there’s nothing to worry about I just –” your voice was higher than normal, Shawn’s hand tightening around yours.
 But he was silent. Staring straight ahead at the stoplights. The bright red glow illuminating his impassive features.
 “There is nothing to worry about, right?” You found yourself saying.
 “Of course not.”
 Your heart was in your stomach, and you suddenly felt like there was no room in the car – no air.
 “Shawn,” you whispered, “Did something happen?”
 He swallowed again, “No.”
 You were both silent for the rest of the ride home, Shawn’s hand holding yours – the only thing stopping you from falling apart.
 The second the car parked in your driveway, you let go of him and jumped out, not waiting for him to follow – speed walking to the front door. Your hands were shaking as you tried to stick the key into the lock, your blurry eyes making it hard for you to focus.
 “Y/n – ”
 You could hear Shawn coming up behind you, but the door burst open just in time – saving you from having to look at him, “I – I have to go to the bathroom.”
 You could hear him shout something back but you were already sprinting up the stairs and into your shared room, shutting the door behind you and bolting into the bathroom.
 You were shaking, pulling your phone out and googling the one thing on your mind since the second you heard it.
 The lyrics to Shawn’s When You’re Ready showed up on screen and you tried to calm your breathing, scrolling for a moment before your tears began collecting again and you were sobbing.
 You gripped the sink, your breaths choked up as you tried to control your heart rate.
 You could feel a tightness expanding through your chest, like a weight that was pulling you down. You were on your knees before you had a chance to blink, your hands wrapped around your dress as you tried to get a grip on yourself.
 Moments passed but your breathing wasn’t picking up, you tried to blink away the tears, but they kept flowing as your shallow breaths increased.
 You stood; your head spinning at the sudden movement, making you fall back and steady yourself against the sink. A jewelry box slid off at the impact, falling and smashing on the floor.
 You flinched back at the noise, your ears registering a muffled yelling from behind your door, but you couldn’t make it out. You didn’t understand any of it, your chest heaved as you fell back onto your knees, sounding like you were chocking on air. Black spots began to cloud your vision, the room starting to spin.
 Arms wrapped around you, pulling you back into a hand chest, but your mind was too cloudy to process any of it.
 “Breathe – ” you could just make out his words, “You’re having a panic attack.”
 “I can’t I –”
 Shawn spun you into him, on his knees before you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he placed his forehead on yours. You tried to make out the golden color of his eyes but you couldn’t focus on anything but the tightness in your chest.
 “I need you to listen to me, okay?” His thumbs were lightly massaging your jaw, “You’re going to inhale for me on the count of three.”
 “1.. 2.. inhale.” You obeyed, your chest filling up with air as you shook in his grasp.
 “Now exhale,” he said, his voice shaky, “Now again.”
 “Inhale…exhale…inhale….exhale.”
 It was working, your mind slowly clearing as you focused on the sound of his voice.
 You sighed easily for the first time in a while, your eyes finally opening and meeting his tear-streaked ones.
 You pulled away from him immediately, falling back onto your butt as you crawled further away, the cold tile the least of your concerns.
 “You – you.” You heaved, trying to catch your breath, “You wrote it about her.”
He tilted his head, looking like a devastated, confused puppy, “Angel I don’t know –”
 “When you’re ready! You wrote it about her, didn’t you?”
 Shawn blinked, a single tear falling from his eye as he crawled over to you. You flinched, scooting away until your back hit the wall.
 “Y/n I –”
 “The song was written four months into our relationship.” You sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your dress, not caring about how much money you had spent this morning. Now, that seemed like a lifetime ago.
 “You had said that Teddy wrote most of it. That it was a spur of the moment thing. That none of your songs were based on anyone until you met me.”
 He was silent, tears streaking down his cheeks as he tried to catch his breath, “Baby –”
 “You were waiting for her. This entire time. Weren’t you?”
 “No!” He tried to get closer, but stopped at the expression on your face, “No! I love you, I –”
 “Cause ain't n –nobody like you. F- familiar disappointment every single time I do.” You began to recite, your hiccupping sobs making it hard to understand.
 “Y/n. Baby, please let me explain – ”
“Every single night my arms are not around you. My mind's still wrapped around you.” You shut your eyes, your entire body shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to figure out how this was happening to you.
 “Baby, tell me when you're ready.” You opened at the sound of a choked sob coming from the other side of the room. Shawn was on the floor, his head between his hands as he sobbed, shoulders shaking.
 You were silent, trying to stop yourself from rushing over to him and holding him in your arms – something you had grown so accustomed to that now you felt like you were having an out of body experience.
 “Do you still love her?” 
That wasn’t what you had planned to say, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know if the last two years were a waste, if the ring on your finger had ever meant something to the boy you thought was going to be yours forever.
 Shawn was silent, his shoulders slumping as he threw his head back.
 “Shawn?” Your voice was sterner than it had been all day.
 “I – ” Another wrecked sob flew through him.
 You covered your mouth as you felt your chest close up again. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath – you were not about to have another panic attack right now.
 You gripped the vanity to your left, using it to pull yourself to your feet. Your mind went hazy from how fast you rose, your head already pounding from how hard you’d been crying.
 “She told you she was ready, didn’t she?”
 All Shawn could do was nod, his eyes not opening as he placed his head back in his hands – his elbows on his knees as he started crying again.
 You threw your head back, urging yourself not to cry – but nothing could stop the whimper from flying out of you, your eyes shutting again.
 Everything was silent again. For a few moments, you hoped that he would say something. That he would get to his feet and explain that everything was a misunderstanding – that he would take you in his arms and hold you, telling you that you were the one he loved. The only one he loved.
 However, things weren’t that simple. They never were with Shawn. But never before had you doubted where you stood with him.
 “I – I can’t do this.” You found yourself saying, his head snapping up – bloodshot eyes meeting yours.
 He was on his feet before you could blink, “No. Y/n – let’s talk about this, please.”
 You hesitated, before shaking your head. It was too late for talking now. You had waited for him to act and he had left you dry.
 “You need to figure yourself out before we can do that Shawn.” You spun the ring on your finger. “I can’t be with you if you’re not a hundred percent sure about me.”
 “I love you.” His voice cracked, a single tear traveling down his sculpted cheek again.
 “I love you too.” You sniffled, taking the ring off your finger – Shawn immediately flinching back, “Please. Please don’t leave me.”
 “You lied to me. You used me as a placeholder for her. You still love –”
 “I don’t. I don’t.” He was shaking, his hands coming up to fold behind his head, “It was a spur of the moment, baby – ”
 “I know you, Shawn.” You were tired, and he was delirious. You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and you were afraid that if you kept this up any longer – he could convince you to stay.
 “Call me when you figure everything out. And then we can talk.”
 You placed the ring on the counter, the clang of it hitting the marble making Shawn flinch again, but you didn’t let yourself get phased.
 You took one long look at him, before turning around and walking out of the bathroom – and ultimately the house.
 He didn’t call after you once.
__________________________________________________________________
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linkspooky · 4 years
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Top 10 Danganronpa characters
Normally my motto is “No Heroes, Only Villains.” In general I tend to dislike main characters because a lot of authors take short cuts to have the main character feel important, and end up bending the story around them. Whereas while villains are darker characters overall, because the narrative always frames their actions as bad they are usually far more complex characters with deeper, darker, struggles driving them udnerneath the surface. 
The one exception to my rule is Uchikoshi’s Zero Escape series, and Kodaka’s Dangan Ronpa series where I usually end up stanning the protagonist. Due to the fact that the objective of Dangan Ronpa is to inflict as much despair on the protagonist as possible, I can kind of see why this series is the one exception to my rule. 
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1. Mukuro Ikusaba - “I’m so sorry, Junko. I never really understood what despair was. But it’s going to be all right now. I finally understand. So… I’ll make sure I make you happy, Junko. I’ll make sure I fill you with despair. I’ll save Makoto… I’ll make sure the others don’t die. I’ll let them escape from this place…”
Most of the entries on this list are going to be characters I think have a solid narrative in their game/source material, rather than just picking characters I like. For example I like Tanaka, Mikan, a lot of the characters that fill up the killing game cast are faves however I want to judge them for their arc as a whole. Ikusaba Mukuro is my one exception because she is my absolute favorite character in Dangan Ronpa and she’s one of the most wasted narrative potentials. This likely comes as a result of Dangan Ronpa the original being the worst written game of the three, which lets a lot of its characters including Mukuro go to waste. 
Mukuro is a child soldier who’s been trained her entire life. She’s also a victim of sibling abuse, from her only genuine family and the one who loves her. What complicates this is Mukuro is also a bad person, she’s a terrorist who works for despair not because she believes it, but instead to make her sister happy. Mukuro’s lived her entire life to make her sister happy, and her sister loves nothing more than misery despair. You can see where the conflict arises. 
Narita’s rendition of Mukuro makes her one of the best characters in Dangan Ronpa. She’s a heartless murderer, but that’s because she has no one in her life except Junko. Of course life is worthless to her she’s never even been shown how to live. When Mukuro is introduced to ideas like love, she’s actually terrified. She’s so scared of other people she considers just talking to people to be worse than taking a shotgun blast to the face. Mukuro’s just so bad at being herself it’s easier to be the doll that Junko plays with. Which is why her turning from despair to hope because of the connections she made with Class 78, and Makoto still believing in her even after she chose to betray them and start the killing game is one of the coolest narrative ideas in Dangan Ronpa. Too bad it only happens in a Ryoga Narita short story. 
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2. Matsuda Yauske - “Who are you going to report me to? The National Japanese Ugly People Association? That kind of organization would be guilty of discrimination just by existing.”
Matsuda is also a character that could have had greater importance to the series as a whole, but I do think Dangan Ronpa Zero enough to tell his story. Matsuda is an almost perfect protagonist of a tragedy, his heroic qualities are what drag him underneath the surface of the water and cause him to drown. He’s just a kid who wants to protect his childhood friend no matter what the cost. After losing his mother, he made a promise that the two of them were going to spend the rest of their lives taking care of each other and Matsuda does his best to fulfill his end of that promise. 
Oh, also that childhood friend is a terrorist trying to destroy the school he is currently attending, and also killing several innocent people and forcing him to hide the bodies. Matsuda is deep down a very good person, but he hides it under his apathetic attitude and his harsh tongue. It shows that good people are perfectly capable of doing bad things. Matsuda knows exactly how wrong his actions are, but he takes them anyway out of desperation. We see him agonize over what he has to do, and then never forgive himself when he does. The rapid deterioration of his mental state because he a doctor, is hurting people, and even hurting the one he loves by protecting her is so compelling. Junko’s claws are already dug so deep into his skin, but he doesn’t want to escape because even with her arms wrapped around her neck at least Junko is still holding onto him. 
Matsuda’s a character whose both selfless to an unhealthy extent, and also self-motivated. Junko points this out (helpfully) and his complexity comes from the fact he’s not either or, but both at once. Yes, he’s trying to fix what happened to his mother by fixing Junko’s brain. Yes, he wants to protect Junko because that gives him a place to belong. However, at the same time he is doing all of this because he does genuinely love Junko, and that’s his despair. You can tell despite Ryoko being a Junko who does not care about despair, who is happy go lucky and completely dependant on him like he wants, she chafes him. He can’t stand Ryoko deep down, because he knows Ryoko is not Junko. Matsuda defines him entirely by his use to others and he fell in love with the girl who only knows how to use and manipulate others. It’s a match made in hell. 
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3.  Enoshima Junko - Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope’s polar opposite. It is messy and confusing.
The most hardworking character in any story is the villain. Junko defines Danganronpa, Junko practically is Dangan Ronpa. That being said while her appearances in the main games are fun to read, she really shines as a fave of mine in Dangan Ronpa Zero. This is the few times we get a peek at what’s going on inside of Junko’s head instead of having to view from what she decides to show us on the outside. 
Junko’s so fascinating because she’s just too smart for the world around her. Her brain’s not broken, it works a little bit too well. She sees no point in making relationships because everybody around her acts so predictably they might as well be playing roles on a stage. Everyone is reading off of a script without even knowing it. 
You get the sense that Junko this amazingly talented girl, idolized, worshipped, loved by all, always in the center of the spotlight, just wants any life that’s not hers. Despite having been handed everything she can’t enjoy a single part of life. She has a very “I’m taking my ball and going home attitude” towards hope, if Junko can’t see the appeal of hope, if she can’t enjoy her school life then no one should be able to. 
There’s something viscerally pleasing to read in her desire to break the world around her. If everybody is reading from a script then burn the script. If everyone fits too easily into a box then she should destroy all the boxes. Junko herself is more of a personified Jungian Shadow, meant to drudge up the worst parts of society from the bottom of the ocean and make it float and burn on the surface of the water like long buried oil. However, I also find her character to be unique and compelling, not because she’s a psychopath but rather because she isn’t. Junko is capable of loving people, but she’s so bored that you’re guranteed to be worse off if she likes you, because you’re going to be disected while still alive just to prove you’re a living person and not a doll. 
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4. Saihara Shuichi - “The only time I can use my detective talent is after someone dies… A detective…can’t save anyone. I’m only useful after it’s already too late.”
Welcome to the I-Like-Dangan-Ronpa protagonists list. Shuichi is my favorite protagonist for a main sereis game, because he’s really the only one who has a strong arc through all six chapters. Makoto is the original danganronpa protagonist, but he’s much more interesting when he’s deconstructed by the other characters around him. 
Shuichi’s so interesting as a protagonist because he doesn’t always keep on hoping. In fact he gets scared, he runs away, he lies in his bed for days doing absolutely nothing. Shuichi is just as sensitive of a boy as Makoto is, but that emotinoal sensitivity is a flaw because it makes him fragile. Makoto would never give into despair, but Shuichi does which makes him all the more strong for pulling out of it. 
He’s timid, easily gets pushed around by others, what makes Shuichi so appealing is because he’s a terrible main character. The game even highlights this in the protaognist swap, Kaede was too strong, and Shuichi too weak to be a lead. There’s even hatemail in the game that’s like Shuichi sucks bring Kaede back and it’s hilarious. He has none of the strength of normal main characters. In fact he’s a walking bundle of nerves and weaknesses. Despite being a detective he’s not even as great as investigating as Kirigiri, and definitely not as cool. Yet, Shuichi struggles so much for every single step in the way. Most of the Dangan Ronpa games end with We’ll keep on hoping, which is a fine message but also pretty generic. DRV3 has the strongest themes of the series and it ends with Shuichi saying I don’t give a damn about hope, I’m going back to my real life. Which is all the stronger because you find out that Shuichi isn’t special, nor was he even that great of a person, he’s just kind of an creepy anti-social kid that sucked. His improvement feels so great because we’ve seen him accept that past self, but at the same time leave it behind. 
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5. Akamatsu Kaede “..And that's why we need to expose the mastermind and end this dumb killing game! So we can smile with everyone else!”
Kaede is also another comnentary on Makoto, but instead of passive she’s active. I’ve always called her an aggressive optimist. Makoto will just be very tolerant of other people, be patient with them, listen to them, whereas Kaede wants to be friends and she will beat your tragic backstory out of you if she needs to. 
This is once again a case of a great Dangan Ronpa character going to waste, but the protagonist switch gave us Shuichi so while I’m disappointed I can still live with the choice. What I love about Kaede and Shuichi as dual protagonists is how well they compliment one another. Kaede is friendly and social but she’s not necessarily nice or empathic. Shuichi is nice and empathic, but he’s anti-social and too timid to go out and make friends. I like deconstructions of empathy because Shuichi is kind of too empathic, he’s always so concerned with how others feel he lets his own heart get trampled over. Kaede’s the exact opposite, she’ll trample over other people trying to make them happy because she’s just too headstrong. 
She’s a version of Makoto where her relentless optimism, her ability to make friends, both of these things are flaws because Kaede doesn’t really understand other people’s struggles the same way Shuichi does. Which is why both of them shine the best when they’re together because as a duo they really don’t get along that much underneath the surface. Kaede is all about trusting everyone, but in the end she takes everything into her own hands. Shuichi acts like he wants everyone to rely on him but at the same time his self esteem is so low that he wants someone else to come and take the responsibility away from him. Which is why their relationship which seems to be perfectly complementary on the surface falls apart. Another thing I love about the two of them is most of the Dangan Ronpa guy/girl investigation duos are basically the girl just giving hints and being perfectly helpful to the guy the entire time, whereas Shuichi and Kaede both lie to each other while pretending they’re each other’s most trusted person. 
It’s a really great arc even if I wish Kaede had lived to see the consequences of the two of them falling apart and failing to trust each other rather than dying. 
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6. Hinata Hajime / Izuru Kamukura  “I’m not interested.”
Hinata Hajime is a boring rehash of Naegi Makoto whose only major difference is being slightly more anxious for the first five chapters, and then he becomes one of the most amazing characters in Dangan Ronpa. If you reread SDR2 knowing the Izuru Twist, Hinata’s character becomes a lot more distinct. 
The best way I’ve ever heard Hinata described is “Like Makoto, but not genuine about it.” Makoto is just a friendly guy who really likes everyone and really wants to help everyone, he’s kind of simple. Whereas, Hinata wants to be that person really desperately but he can’t. Because Hinata wants to be important. When he helps someone he wants to be relied on. When he makes a friend, he wants them to be an important friend. He wants to be selfless, but he can’t stop thinking about himself for one minute because he’s an anxious mess. 
DR3 is bad, but one of the few things it got right was Reserve Course Hinata’s genuine attitude. He seems angry and confrontational, but that’s only because he hates the idea of other people looking down on him. He’s always worried about what other people think of him, so being so confrontational helps him be avoidant. Nobody looks too close if he pretends to have a strong personality. 
Hinata is just someone so intensely disatisfied with himself he decided to get a surgery to take his brain out of his head and let him become someone else. Except Hinata can’t escape himself because Koameda is walking around as a walking callout post for him. This is what you look like. This is how you act. This is what you became in your desperation to become special, Komaeda just doesn’t hide it. 
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7. Fukawa Toko “My theory is that happy people can only write happy, shallow novels.“
Everybody told me to wait until UDG before I judged anything about Toko, but she was one of the few Non-Junko characters that I loved from the first game. What I like about Toko is how ugly, and miserable she is at all times. Toko’s like so unlikable that people generally get along with her split-personality better than her, because even though Jack is a serial killer she’s less difficult to deal with. 
Toko’s actually pretty low empathy. She doesn’t feel that much guilt over Jack being a serial killer. She doesn’t see herself in people suffering in front of her, even when they’re literal children who turned to murder because their parents were abusing them so badly she’s like nope, nope, nothing to see here. However that’s the appeal, Toko’s literally had the empathy beaten out of her. The reason she doesn’t feel those things is because she can’t. 
Toko’s so obviously broken, she’s a bundle of inferiority complexes and trauma just trying desperately to hide herself together. She’s an obvious victim of bullying, and yet she’ll bully people the second they get close to her. She’s not soft, or nice at all, and will say things to hurt you. Toko responds to ugliness with ugliness. She responds to hatred with hatred. She’s cinderella but she wasn’t able to remain kind when her wicked stepmothers abused her, os she became a serial killer instead. There’s something so raw about a girl cut apart with scissors desperately trying to piece herself back together. 
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8. Shingetsu Nagisa  "D-Don't be stupid! That's not true! I'll be a kid until I die! I would rather die right now than become an adult! Don't you believe me?"
I love all the kids from Ultra Despair girls, but once again Nagisa is my favorite because he has the most developed arc out of all of them. Nagisa is continually acting burdened by everyone around him. He’s always way in over his head, up to his neck in blood and has no idea what to do. He’s also the only one who seems to be consciously aware that they’re doing something bad and trying to justify it to himself. 
Nagisa is always overburdening himself, but much like Matsuda he does this because it’s the only way he knows how to function. If he wasn’t useful to everyone around him he would be thrown out. Nagisa continually pushes himself into unhealthier and unhealthier situations. 
And the best part about his arc is we get to see him crumble. He has this narrative where everyone always has expectations for him, and being told that nobody expects anything from him is his breaking point. He’s begging people to use him. He descends into a screaming fit and you realize this is a kid who has been used his entire life and thinks being loved is having someone who needs you. 
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9. “I am not like you. I believe in power. No matter how many I make into victims, even if it means my death, I shall destroy despair. That is my resolve!”
It’s hard to describe why I like Munakata. His confrontation with Makoto is one of my favorite scenes in the series, but out of context Dangan Ronpa dialogue always sounds so ridiculous. Munakata, no we need to kill the concept of despair, we need to kill everyone whose ever even felt sadness. If you disregard how the hope vs despair conflict kind of got ridiculous in DR3, there’s a lot of interesting parts about Munakata’s character.
He’s like a version of Makoto’s character who grew up into someone really unpleasant. He’s trying so hard to be the symbol of hope that Makoto just kind of is on accident. He’s one of the few characters who is a strict idealist that I like, because it shows how much Munakata cares about ideas over justice or hope over people to the point where he ends up being the reason that the people he loved dies. 
I like Munakata because he’s a bad person even though he’s fighting for objectively good reasons. He’s such a strict utilitarian he always uses people and has to be in control. He’s terrible to his own close friends. You get the sense that he never really knew either of them. That’s why it’s fun to see him destroy everything with his own hands, and realize after the fact that even when he was nothing left to fight for he has to keep going. Kodaka originally said he was going to die, but he realized making him live at the end with no reason to live was the better option and I agree it was the best possible conclusion to his character. 
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10. “Because you know I...things like murder, these kinds of abnormal crimes, from the bottom of my heart... LOVE THEM MORE THAN ANYTHING.” 
Takumi is a big weirdo and I love him. He’s a unique vigilante killer who kills other serial killers not because of any sense of justice, but rather because he thinks they’re all way too lame and he wants to find a really cool killer that lives up to his standards. Takumi is all about the spectacle of killing.
His brain is so weird that to him the feeling of watching his classmates cut apart with a knife is similiar to the feeling of falling in love. He’s a copycat killer but only because the killers he meet are so incompetent and unmotivated that he has to show them how to do it better. 
You get the sense that some part of Takumi is dead inside, because when he’s not killing people he’s lounging around acting like a NEET. He likes murder because the knowledge that death is so close is the only thing that makes him truly feel alive and life worth living to him. Ironically, he’s searching for a way to live in his grim fascination with death. There’s just so many tropes turned on their head and inverted for Takumi to the point where black becomes white and white becomes black that it makes his whole story so fun. 
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twisted-nox-sidus · 4 years
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(I'm bad with clear skies. I want to hide my ugliness from the light. But things lurk in the shadows cast by that light... And I'm a little interested in finding out more about them.) - Strix, narrating.
Based off nighttime and an owl, so she's not necessarily "twisted" from anything/anyone. She's actually designed around an otome MC struggling with the concept of love (because why not).
(Note: This post is super long since I put a lot of depth into this OC. There’s a lot of angst surrounding her than what’s given at face value. I even left out some details that are considered a surprise that reveals more about Strix. Some bits of her profile are rather messy and all over the place. I hope you guys love her as much as I do!)
Name: Strix Noctowl
Real Name: Secret
Nickname(s): Transfer Student, Problem Child, Newbie, etc.
Age: 16
DOB: 3/3 (Pisces)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'4.5" (164 cm)
Likes: Fluffy things, birds (particularly owls), music boxes
Dislikes: Gossip, thunder, her eyes
Hobbies: Reading, singing, piano playing
Race: Human
Affiliation: Night Raven College
Year: First
Relative(s): Unnamed mother (deceased), unnamed father (defected), unnamed grandparents, Sidney (great-grandfather)
Dorm: Unallied
Personality
A down-to-earth but curious young lady who never runs short of her sharp-tongue. She goes by Strix Noctowl in order to separately identify herself as the girl known specifically in Twisted Wonderland. Strix tends to be pessimistic and talk about pop cultural references no one in Twisted Wonderland would understand but nonetheless is determined to return home. She is more of a nocturnal person.
She is known to be “disobedient” and rebellious by the NRC. Many students admire her for her fearless, outspoken character but also keep at a distance to avoid getting roped in potential punishments with her.
Strix is not a virtuous person and can play petty if the situation compels her. She can be violent and won't hesitate to resort to a little punch to get her point across. Questions how most of the cast don't know the meaning "no" on a daily basis.
Underneath her shell, Strix is a touch-starved, naive, and utterly vulnerable girl. The absence of her parents led her to believe she is not loved and relies on her dear grandfather for almost anything she has trouble with. She is also shy about asking to fulfill her selfish desires and sometimes hides it too well that it becomes painfully evident to others.
Strix has a child-like impulse to touch things that pique her curiosity, such as trying to touch Leona's ears or Malleus' horns. The Savanaclaw dormitory is a prime victim of her "harassments".
Strix has a bad habit of falling asleep on a constant basis to the point she can sleep with her eyes open and stay still from what she was doing (ig. holding a stack of papers). This also happens arbitrarily at random places and time, such as sleeping mid-conversation. It's an impressive feat, as remarked by many of the guys. The habit was stemmed from the inner part of Strix that likes to dream (despite being a realist) and being a sound sleeper. She says this is the only time she can truly escape the cruel reality. It's a technique Strix may or may not be proud of.
About
Strix is a rare case at Night Raven College. Initially it appeared she had no powers whatsoever and was not remarkable in magic classes. Pretty disastrous, actually. She received a lot of hostility from the students who believe she doesn't deserve to be a worthy student at the prestigious magic academy, the very field she sucks at. Soon, Strix awakens her powers (explained in Abilities section) and works to control it while attending the college.
Due to Strix's insistence, she identifies herself as an "unallied" student and is taking residence at the run-down dormitory. She had complained a lot about each and every dorm and considers the NRC dorm a better place to reside in. She didn't really mind being the sole student in the rundown dorm since she was accustomed to solitude. She won't spend much time other than sleeping there anyways.
In order to repay Crowley's generosity and protection, she volunteered to work as his aid, such as helping clean up and sorting the books and documents piling up his workload. In addition, Strix works part-time across each of the seven dorms to earn herself money instead of relying on Crowley all the time. This also helps keep her busy and familiarize herself with the dorms and its students (since she has to cooperate with the uncooperative chaotic student body). (FYI, her payment is based on her performance which will be reported by the dorm leaders to determine the wage.)
Abilities
Strix has the ability to summon colorful, quirky, and adorable Dream Eater Spirits (please think of the Kingdom Hearts series because that's exactly what they will look like. I’m not capable of creating them myself so please use them as reference) that obey her heed. She surprisingly has good control of her magic (probably because she’s a dreamer and is adept with her dream magic as a result) and works on honing her abilities so she doesn't subconsciously summon the fun yet pesky creatures and start a zoo attraction. If a colorful creature is running rampant on campus, you know who is responsible for it. A common Dream Eater Spirit she summons is a curious owl dubbed Peepsta Hoo (shown below).
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History
Strix was raised by her great grandfather Sidney since she was a child, whom she trusts and loves the most in her family. Sidney is a half-blind antique shop owner; a man who was born on the very day and year Disney was founded (10/16/1923). He practically grew up with Disney and shares his love with his descendants including Strix, who also adores the magic of Disney as a result. He is at least 96 years old, yet still somehow has spunk to him.
Strix's mother died from childbirth. Her father couldn't handle the sight of Strix who was slowly looking more like his dead wife every day and abandoned her to start a new life with another woman, essentially cutting ties with Strix when she was only five years old. In an outburst he said he hated Strix's eyes that were said to be devoid of light and emotion ever since she was an infant before leaving the house with luggage in hand. Strix dislikes her birthday since that marked the day her mother died and never encourages her own birthday parties or gifts.
Strix grew up resenting her eyes that were seen as a curse. Her grandparents even agreed with her former father that her mother gave birth to a "heartless, cursed monster". It was said that for the first five years Strix was born into the world, she barely expressed emotion outside of a blank slate, though Strix herself claims to not remember that. Her grandparents on her mother's side still resented her for her mother's death while the grandparents on her father's side don't want to have anything to do with her. Only Sidney was willing to raise her.
Strix is touch-starved due to the absence of her parents. As a child she had wished for them to pat her head, hug her, and hold their hands; the simple intimate things expected for family to do. She never knew her mother, and her father was aloof towards her and even treated her like the Plague by avoiding contact with her. What she had wished was for their affection, or rather the affection of a mother and/or father (which will be fulfilled by everyone’s bird dad Crowley in the future).
The only one who could meet her demands was Sidney who happily gives her attention and affection. He was the only one she could confide to and seek help.
Strix grew up believing she only needed to depend on the love of her great grandfather. She was extremely timid and nervous as a child who didn't understand how to befriend kids her age and harbored jealousy towards them who lived with happy families. This jealousy is what primarily made her keep a distance from them. As a result, she didn't make any friends, and never had up to when she was warped to Twisted Wonderland.
Strix once had a crush on a boy (dubbed "Caelum" for narrative purposes) who smiled brightly like the sun and filled her with warm giddiness. However, that was when she was six years old and the boy in high school, practically a decade year gap between them. It was more of adoration than romantic attraction, but she never met anyone else who was as nice and warm as him other than Sidney.
Caelum was her neighbor who babysat her whenever Sidney had to run errands. He played with her and spoiled her with her needs; they were like brother and sister. It was until he had graduated and moved away to dorm in a faraway college that they never saw each other again until seven years when a letter of invitation was sent for his wedding.
Strix's emotions conflicted over how she should express her romantic feelings among the platonic ones up to the day of his wedding. She froze up and fled out of fear before she could answer him. The moon was blue yet cold that night, and she discovered something like a mirror in the garden pond. She was suddenly shoved from behind and fell into the mirror. This leads to the current situation and the start of a twisted fairytale where happy endings are not as they seem.
Trivia
- Strix is a name used in various mythologies to refer to creatures who bring forth misfortune. They usually appear in the form of birds, mainly owls. "Strix" is also a genus of owls in the typical owl family (Strigidae).
- Noct in Noctowl means "night". Yes the owl is snuck in there, go figure.
- Strix's birthday falls on "I Want You to Be Happy", also known as Girl's Day.
- Strix once took care of a baby snowy owl as a child but had to say her farewell when it was released into the wild. Ever since, she likes to learn more about the beautiful feathered creatures.
- Strix's preferred type of person is someone who would wholeheartedly accept her touch-starved needs. Of course, she would do the same vice versa.
- Strix's most treasured item is the wristwatch that also plays like a music box. She never goes out without it. She also carries a gold heart lock (the one seen in her default outfit) on her out of impulse and never bothered to understand why. She says she feels safe bringing it with her.
- Strix has 2.0 eyesight. She can pinpoint a person from far away and recognize them.
- If you rub Strix's head in a particular way by running your fingers from behind her ears and massaging her scalp, she'll fall asleep. Apparently it calms her nerves and loosens the tension built up. She melts like goo on the spot and subconsciously clings to the person, purring in contentment like a completely different person (like an affectionate house cat). It's effective for silencing her, having her sleep, or just fluster her altogether. The first in the NRC to discover this embarrassing weak spot was...? That's a story for another time, though.
- Strix learned to play the piano for ten years since she was six years old, the same time when she first met Caelum. Caelum was the one who got her into the piano after expressing his love for the instrument and classical music. Initially Strix played to earn recognition from him, but over time, especially after he left, she grew fond of the piano (also because the sound works similarly to a music box) and honed her expertise in the field. She won piano competitions up to now and has a goal of becoming a pianist in her career. Her piano skills are highly praised by her peers and sought after by Azul, but even then she feels insecure. Ever since the wedding, her hands freeze up and hover over the keys as she automatically recalls the daunting memory of Caelum and her bittersweet emotions. The crowd's peer pressure wasn't helping either. (And yes, she can play the piano while asleep. What a pro.)
- Strix's love for Disney makes her prone to humming and singing to songs including but not limited to Disney as she works (of course when she knows she's alone). Sometimes she can get carried away with her singing and wind up lost in her own world as she does and would take a while to notice another presence in the room. When she gets caught, she dies on the inside and gets extremely embarrassed to the point of acting tough with a tomato red face. Apparently she is terrible at being self-aware of her surroundings when she gets into it. Then again, this is the same girl who falls asleep in the middle of corridors without realizing she was asleep.
- On that note, her singing voice is actually really nice, almost trained like a pro. Azul officially never lets her out of his sights now that she has full potential to be a full-time staff at Mostro Lounge. Her singing and piano skills are much needed at Mostro Lounge, however Strix would only willingly do the latter. She would die before singing in public. That's a big no no.
- Strix is said to have back (and neck) problems. Probably from the arbitrary times she sleeps in uncomfortable positions, or simply the stress from Night Raven College and the students' antics overall. Someone once touched her shoulder and mistook her for a statue. It's surprising how her appearance hides the stress and drowsiness well. She looks nothing like your average sluggish person.
- Strix likes antagonistic characters in storytelling. She tends to like the villains more than the main characters because she admires the good, the bad, and the ugly of their characters unbound by the laws that prevent them from their free spirits. They're flawed, but she finds relief in knowing they are not completely black like many would depict.
- Strix had a fear of brooms as a child after she watched Fantasia. She grew out of it soon, but even to this day she still looks back on the rather horrific scene with a pale face while holding the broom during flight class, much to Ashton’s confusion.
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enchanted-prose · 4 years
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#22 I Only Care About Myself Captain Harlowe
I don’t actually have a one liner for this one, except that i’m sorry
Word count: 4,330
Characters: Roden, Jaron, Harlowe, Regar (original character), Merry (original character), Dawn
Notes: interpret this how you will. my beta loved this one and hated it all at once
Enjoy!
There was a tightness in Roden’s throat that wouldn’t go away. It grew worse as he visualized the patched Faola, Mireldis Thay, standing in front of Regar’s men. She’d held her dagger with her left hand, the brand on the back of her right dripped blood onto the ground.
All the Faola would’ve been dead if not for her. His men too.
He’d never forget the stone eyes challenging him to fight beside her and the Faola.
He’d never forget the battle fire building in his stomach as he turned to Oberson’s men and ordered them to surrender or die.
The Faola and Mireldis Thay had all melted into the shadows. Melted behind the line of mercenaries.
Roden chose to let them go.
Mireldis Thay fought at his side and called his men to safety just like she’d called for her own. It was difficult deciding who was right and who was wrong. Oberson shouldn’t have sent men after her, but she could’ve slipped into the shadows and ran like she did after the fight ended.
Ultimately, Jaron felt it disrespectful to the Faola who’d died to continue with the feast. The prayers given in the chapel were prayers to the dead.
The entire time he knelt, counting the makeshift beads Merry gave him, it seemed like his hands were slick with blood.
That night, he accompanied Jaron to Graer’s new rooms. Harlowe was already there, waiting for them. He sat in a cushioned chair across from Graer. The fire had died down to a series of embers, they were talking as if they were good friends.
Graer’s chambers were plain, just like every other room on the floor, save for the cushioned chairs. The walls, however, hadn’t been covered in pale plaster. Every stone in the walls and floor was visible.
“King Jaron, Captain Harlowe,” Graer dropped to one knee, and held a hand to his chest. “Thank you, for your kindness.”
“You helped me fulfill my lifelong dream of catching a real live Thay, I’m hoping you can help me catch the other one,” said Jaron, motioning for Graer to stand.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my daughter as prey evading a hunter.”
“I’m more inclined to think that Lady Mireldis is the hunter, and we’re all rabbits with targets on our backs.”
“Now that is a comet I can approve of,” said Graer as he settled back against his chair. “Is it true? Did she escape Oberson?”
“Unfortunately for us, but luckily for her, yes. She escaped. Don’t look too happy, or I’ll send you back to your cell.”
Roden knew Graer was grinning behind his raccoon-sized beard.
Harlowe cleared his throat, “Your Majesty, I’ve had the opportunity to talk with King Thay, and you’ll find he was attempting to save his child’s life for the right reasons.”
Breaking a law and abetting a girl guilty of treason through a just viewpoint. Roden crossed his arms, “Can you tell me, these reasons, King Thay?”
“It’s, ah, it’s just commander,” Graer wiped his nose. “Please, I relinquished the title years ago, I’d rather be called by the name I’ve earned.”
“Commander Thay,” Roden corrected himself.
“Is this a long story?” Jaron was leaning his weight on his left leg. “I might need to sit down.”
Graer shook his head, “I heard rumors of Mireldis being here, and I came to find her. I found her stealing purses and attempting to kill my former ward, Feall Cormeach. When given the chance, you’d let your child go in an attempt to lead them back to the straight and narrow path. She’d been blinded.”
There was a divide in Roden’s heart. He knew what it meant to go down the wrong path, it was what he did when he went to the pirates. If it weren’t for Jaron coming to find him, he would’ve taken the same path as Mireldis Thay. He would’ve done everything he could to get revenge.
If it weren’t for his second chance, he’d probably be dead by a pirate’s hand.
However, the law was the law. If punishment skipped one person, everybody would want to be exempt. You couldn’t get away with treason without paying the price.
But he’d been there.
Roden was there when Mireldis was thrown out of the Faola by her father’s own request. She’d ran up the Vaults’ stairs with him, dodging names, fists, and spit. It was exile from a family and running a gauntlet.
She kept her head, but it was still a consequence.
Fists, names, and spit. She’d pushed through it.
He’d taken her by the hand and dragged her up the stairs. Flung her at attacking soldiers without a second thought.
How had he managed to be so close to her, and never once see her face?
It was on him. He should’ve cornered her, and torn off that mask.
The conversation continued without him. Roden reached for the prayer beads Merry gave him, his finger brushing over the fish coin attached to it. He needed to speak to her. Needed to talk about something outlandish and unrelated to the cause at hand.
He trailed his hand over his face, and shoved his way back into the conversation. “Can you predict where she’ll go next?”
Both Graer and Jaron shot him questionable looks. Heat spread up the back of Roden’s neck as he realized that they’d already been discussing exactly that.
“Gelyn or Avenia,” said Harlowe, his voice ever gentle. Ever patient. “King Jaron and Commander Thay are debating what to do.”
“I don’t trust Commander Thay, but he’s also already been hired by Renlyn Karise to protect her ships,” Jaron said. “I can technically hold him here and risk Renlyn’s wrath, and after I accused her of being Mireldis Thay, that might be a bad idea.”
Harlowe leaned his elbows on his knees. “What do you suggest, Roden?”
“Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Always.”
Roden rubbed the back of his neck, “I think it’s a waste to keep Graer here. If we send him to Avenia like Renlyn wants, we’ll have him check for Mireldis. I doubt he’s in any hurry to betray the woman who saved him from whatever Oberson had planned.”
“Especially when that woman is a Karise,” Graer’s focus was on the wall, remembering another time.
“Our only problem is that Renlyn wants her ships guarded now,” explained Jaron. “Alistair and his men will be ready to move within the week, but that’s not soon enough for Lady Renlyn Karise. She’d have him and his army leaving tomorrow if I let her. Lord Row would follow, no doubt.”
“I see no problem in getting rid of all other outside meddlers, not after today,” Roden clenched his fist, unable to think of anything else but the puddles of blood. “The sooner, the better.”
“He’s right,” said Harlowe.
Jaron sighed, “I know, I just don’t want to let this all go so quickly.”
“Then send on my men,” Graer sat a little straighter. “They listen to me, you’ll squeeze in every question you want, and I can ride out when you let me.”
“I don’t like how cooperative you’re being.”
“Would you like me to be headstrong, your Majesty?”
“Please, don’t,” Jaron held up a hand. “It’s been a long day.”
Roden agreed.
He slowly unclenched his smallest finger on his right hand, and then moved on to relax his entire fist. It was slow work, but soon he was able to attempt to do the same action with his left.
It was difficult to get a coiled spring to relax without letting it shoot off into the air.
It was difficult to remind himself that there was no sword swinging at his head. Roden was having a discussion with three other men, two of whom were among those he was closest to.
Not everyone knew how to be safe, even if they’d spent years trying to.
Maybe that’s what kept Mireldis Thay on the run. She couldn’t let herself be safe without killing Feall.
Only an optimistic fool would’ve believed it when Feall claimed that Mireldis wanted to kill him for being Graer’s ward and Ingrid’s favorite. There was something else. Roden reached for the coin hanging around his neck, the engraven fish on the coin’s face was familiar to him. It would keep him safe from harm, but not safe from somebody’s else’s trickery.
Feall wouldn’t give up every detail of the story, Roden had come to accept that.
The only option was to find out Mireldis’s side, and figure out the truth from both sides.
“Tell me, did you ever see Mireldis without her mask?” Jaron walked over to the embers, and then behind Harlowe’s chair.
“Nay, lad, I haven’t seen her and her long hair for almost seven years.”
“Can you at least tell her what she looked like?”
A bitter smile glinted beneath Graer’s beard. “Long hair, fell past her knees, dark eyes. Threw a royal temper tantrum each time it rained and the worms crawled onto the cobblestone only to dry in the sun. Little cleft in her chin, like her mother. . .”
Hair past her knees.
Feall mentioned that too.
Jaron was leaning against the top of Harlowe’s chair, “That’ll be all. People change. They grow.”
“She was half past twelve when I last saw her,” Graer’s voice was calm, quiet. “She didn’t recognize me at first, a lot happens as the years pass.”
“Are you surprised that she’s been after Feall all these years?” Jaron scratched at his nose.
“Excuse me? I know they say she’d died, but I- I thought-”
Something dawned on Roden. Graer tracked his daughter through rumors. It was why he hadn’t looked for her sooner; everyone claimed she was dead. Feall hadn’t made the connection between Mireldis and the bandits until after she’d demanded Oberson hand him over. If it took Feall that long to figure it out, Graer likely had no idea that his daughter- his flesh and blood was trying to murder his former ward.
The look in Graer’s eyes matched the way Harlowe’s did on the day Roden told him how he’d tried to kill Jaron.
Not disappointed, not angry.
Sad.
Devastated.
Graer was full of military swagger. It was draining out of him, the empty space filling with self blame.
“That was why you were angry about letting her go,” he croaked. “I thought her quarry was with Oberson.”
“You didn’t know?” Roden asked. Graer’s story was clicking in line with Feall’s. “We spoke with Lord Feall, would you like to see him?”
There was a pause before he answered. “In- in time. I took in Feall for various reasons; he was meant to keep Mireldis company while I was away.”
A companion. Feall was meant to be a companion, not an heir to the throne of Idunn Craich.
“When did-,” Jaron started, but his sentence fizzled after both Roden and Harlowe looked at him.
“Thank you, for what you’ve said,” Harlowe murmured. “It’s difficult to live through memories.”
“I’ve only just learned that my daughter lived despite the rumors, and now I’ve been informed that her path is even darker than I thought,” Graer cleared his throat. “You have to let me be with her, your Majesty.”
Jaron stood taller. “We don’t know where she is, otherwise I’d arrange it.”
“Stay for a day or two, talk to Feall, and then you’ll be sent to Avenia under Renlyn’s command,” said Roden. “I won’t send my men after a woman who attacked the king, royal blood or not, it sets a precedence to all who want Jaron dead.”
“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” said Graer, his frown almost masked. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“I’m sorry you had to learn about Mireldis this way.”
“As am I.”
Roden wondered if Graer regretted letting her go. If he wondered what would’ve happened if he’d turned Mireldis over, instead of slicing up her sleeves and helping her escape.
He didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t his place.
----------------------------------------------------
There were still lights on in the Dragon’s Keep. Roden tugged on the sleeves of his blue tunic, and scuffed his boots. He’d gone to the tavern a hundred times before. He’d talked with Merry a hundred times before.
He trusted her, she was his friend. They’d bantered and swapped stories about potatoes made of gold and fish swimming through rainy skies. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them. They tried not to speak about their scars.
It was better that way.
Made room for more jokes.
His mind was snagged on something. Snagged like a cloak caught on a nail.
Something else was in the air.
Something dangerous.
All he carried with him was a knife in his boot. Only a fool would stage an attack after the battle that happened that morning.
Roden could take care of himself in times of danger. He would rise to any challenge with his sword in hand.
However, there was no sword in his hand, and nobody coming towards him with the intention to kill.
He heaved in a breath, shoved open the door to the Dragon’s Keep, and walked in.
Several lanterns and candles burned. Almost too many of them were glowing, fighting off night’s claws by lighting up every corner. The strong scent of strong liquor wafted through the air. Multiple little glass cups littered the counter.
Dawn and the other barmaids were nowhere in sight.
Maybe he’d come too late. Any sane person would be tucked in bed, dreaming of sunny afternoons or of talking frogs. If Merry practiced what she preached about getting a decent amount of sleep, she would’ve tucked herself into bed hours ago.
A pair of boots stuck out from behind the counter. Muddy boots. There were holes in both toes, revealing a red sock and a grey sock.
Somebody had been out running late night errands.
Roden tapped his knuckles against the counter, and the pair of boots kicked into action. Merry sat straight up, a lock of coal colored hair sticking to her drool-covered chin. She rubbed her eyes, and pulled her knees up to her chest.
The bottle not far from her head had been completely emptied, and bore a familiar mark.
It matched the pirate brand on his arm.
Merry burped, her head in her hands. “Give me a moment.”
“Would you like me to come back later?” Roden asked, setting his foot on the lowest rung of the stool in front of him. “You’re going to be nursing a strong headache if you drank what I think you drank.”
“High and mighty Captain Harlowe knows about pirate liquors,” Merry’s voice lilted. “That is surprising.”
“Come on, Mucky, you’re drunk. I’ll get you something to clear your head, you need to sleep.”
She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes, and wiped her snot covered upper lip with her sleeve. “You’re looking fancy. A knight from a fairytale. Searching for his beautiful princess and the dragon keeping her in a tower.”
Was this what it was like for Tobias when he stumbled into Roden’s office after he’d drank away his memories of blood soaked fields?
How embarrassing.
He pushed away from the stool and held out his hands to Merry. If she’d chosen to drink away some scar, he’d hold her hair back when she vomited it all up. When she didn’t take his hands, he reached for her shoulders. Merry was a dead weight. She fell against him, her arms wrapped around his waist.
“Don’t let go, I’m not ready,” she muttered. “Haven’t gotten my sea legs, yet.”
“I can do that,” Roden said, unsure of where to touch her.
All of her weight was leaning against him as if her knees would give out at any moment. Merry’s arms tightened, and so did his ribs. His hand slid over the side of her face, his fingers curling against her wild hair. He held her shoulder with the other.
Keeping her from falling down.
“Did something happen?” He asked, remembering the marks peppering her skin.
Merry groaned, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
The glasses glinted in the lamplight, the amber liquid within some of them sparkling. It was between Merry and her bottle of pirate made liquor. That was the kind of thing you didn’t talk about.
He wanted to know why.
Why she’d drawn into herself rather than coming to him. They were friends. They were supposed to be there when the other needed them most.
“I won’t make you say anything, then,” said Roden. He tucked an untamed curl behind her ear.
“You’re too good. Too much like all the heroes Jolly sings about,” Merry grumbled. “He wrote a ballad about you. Did you know that? He’s not going to sing it, but we’re going to go to Mendenwal. He’ll perform it there and I’ll collect coins like I always do.”
“When are you two leaving?”
“I don’t know, whenever Jolly says the wind is right. Tomorrow. We’re going-,” she hiccuped. “-we’re going to leave tomorrow and we’re going to pretend none of this ever happened.”
Roden wasn’t sure what to say. He knew she was drunk and probably couldn’t answer every question he had. So he picked one. “Pretend what ever happened?”
“Carthya. Drylliad. We’re not supposed to-,” Merry hiccuped. Once, twice, three times. The fourth turned into a sneeze. “We don’t stay too long. We stayed too long. I don’t have a home anymore.”
“Stay here, Drylliad can be your home,” Roden offered, masking his disappointment. “Jolly can sing in Jaron’s court, and you can stay here.”
“Tending to drunk men and dodging their flying tankards?”
“Not exactly, I’d find you a new place to stay.”
“I don’t want to stay. I don’t want to be tied to the ground and forced into working till I’m picked out of the crowd to have babies till I die. I want to run wild. Jolly lets me run wild.”
She was trailing her fingers up and down his spine. The gesture set his skin on fire beneath his tunic. He didn’t want her to go to Mendenwal, he wanted her to stay. He wanted to throw flowers over bridges and pick snails off the road to keep them from getting squished. He wanted to catch crawfish with Nila and flick those who tried to escape from the bucket. He wanted to wipe the blood off Merry’s face after she cracked her head against somebody else’s for throwing stones at someone in a cell.
And it hurt.
It hurt knowing that he craved those moments, while Merry wanted something bigger.
There were cracks he covered up that couldn’t be filled through daring the Vaults. Couldn’t be filled with battling off ten men all on his own as Jaron rushed in to help.
Roden went to step away from her, but Merry’s hands knotted themselves in his tunic. Her voice strained, “No, no, not yet. I’m still not ready. Sorry.”
“I understand,” he pulled her up a little higher, still hanging on to her wild curls.
“I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
“I don’t want you to say goodbye.”
If he had Jaron’s sparkling wit, he would’ve made a joke. He would’ve joked about Merry’s tale of fish swimming in the rain. About how he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if she left, and risk starting a conversation with the wrong one.
But he’d promised her that he’d rather push her forward than ever hold her back.
He just didn’t realize that pushing her forward meant letting her go.
“You can let go now,” Merry said, though her hands lingered, still tangled in his tunic. “You can let go now.”
Without saying a word, Roden held his hands up.
She was telling herself to let go, not him.
Merry finally stumbled away. She bumped into the bar, apologized, and held up her hair. Lamplight lit up her face. Her storm gaze lingered at his face.
Too long, she was looking too long. Roden set his jaw. If she stared any harder, she’d find every secret that he’d ever hidden.
His hand lingered at his right sleeve, completely prepared to pull it up and show her the pirate brand. To show her that he wasn’t who she painted him to be.
That it was alright to fall short.
Harlowe drilled that lesson into Roden’s head.
Not every person was going to hit the mark perfectly, and there was nothing wrong with that. What mattered was if in the end, what you did was for something you believed in with your whole heart.
With your whole being.
Merry reached for a half empty glass, and swirled the contents. “Do you ever anticipate the outcome of a fight, and still get disappointed by what happens?”
“I suppose so,” Roden crossed his arms, deciding to hide the pirate brand for another day. “Did you punch Jamie Todd again?”
“In my defense, I did warn you about this,” Merry tipped the glass up, draining what was left. She lifted it behind her head to throw it, but ultimately set it down on the counter. “I told you I’d do something worse than shoving you off a bridge.”
“You’re drunk and barely reach my shoulder, all I need to do is put my hand on your head and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”
“Silly, silly Cabbage Curls. I’d never hit you. But this has to stop, this- this thing! Where you pretend! You pretend to be my friend!” She pushed away from the bar, reeling in the process.
“But Merry, you are-”
“No! I’m not done! I warned you! How can you tell me that you’re my friend, and then waltz in here with your darling niece and every single one of your friends and act like we’re equals!? You know they’ll choose you every single time. You don’t have to prove anything to them. But I have to prove myself to you! I have to prove that I’m-”
Roden stood his ground, “We’re not having this conversation.”
The biting words were far too personal.
Because he did have to prove himself to his friends, over and over again. It took months to regain their trust. Roden chose to ignore their suspicious side glances. If he didn’t acknowledge that Tobias, Amarinda, and Mott had been right in suspecting his actions, then they’d reevaluate what they thought of him.
And it was true. It was true that he’d sold Jaron out to the pirates. They were right to suspect him.
“We are having this conversation,” Merry growled. She dragged her hand across her dripping nose. “There’s a line between people like you and me. People like you are cherished, you’re blessed, you’re forgiven. But not me. I’m luckless. I’ve tried so hard to jump that divide. To be important, but it just won’t work. I’m not your friend, Roden, you hold a position of power and it would help me.”
“You put a lot of effort into this charade, didn’t you?” Asked Roden, his fists clenching together.
He had to stay calm. If he stayed calm, it would unnerve her. She’d realize just how drunk she was, and go back to bed. They’d apologize to each other in the morning, and-
“I only care about myself, Captain Harlowe,” her voice dropped, and she paused. Merry straightened, almost appearing sober for a moment, and forced a shy, crooked smile.
It only made her words set fire to the memories of cleaning bloody noses and finally comparing ankle sizes.
“Merry, we can figure this out,” he held his hands out in surrender. “If you want the wind in your hair, if you want something grander than being a barmaid, I’ll help you. I care about you. And I know you care about me-”
She shook her head. “No, Roden, I don’t. And I’m sorry. But we’ll never be able to make this work, I can promise you that. You’re too different from me. I’m not cut out to walk the path you tread.”
Upstairs, somebody was stomping. Steps creaked, and a door slammed.
Heat rushed into Roden’s cheeks. He had nothing to say.
No defense for something like this.
“Fill your head with somebody else,” Merry rolled her shoulders back. “It’s cruel- it’s cruel of me, I know, to do this. But you’ll thank me later. Go fill your head with memories of somebody else. Fill your heart with somebody else’s flowers and stupid stories.”
“Is this what you want?” Roden asked, the words were ash in his mouth.
Merry stomped her foot, “Yes it is! Get out! I don’t ever want to-!”
Dawn, in her night dress, stood behind Merry, a bucket in both her hands. She held the bucket up, and dumped the contents, ending Merry’s biting dismissal before it reached its finish. Merry gasped, and wiped her stew soaked hair out of her eyes.
“You won’t speak to him that way, you hear me!?” Dawn snapped, taking Merry by both shoulders and giving her a hard shake.
“What are you going to do, throw me out!?” Merry hissed.
No answer was said. Dawn took Merry by the arm, dragging her to the door. “You can get your things when you’ve cooled off!”
“I’m not ever coming back!” Merry cried. “Not for my things, and not for him!”
Roden turned, watching Merry stumble out the door.
He swore he saw trails of tears cutting across the stew all over her face.
She’d given him every reason to hate her by dredging up old memories. Bad old memories.
All he knew was that he declined any assistance from Dawn, instead, choosing to return home.
There were too many things to think about, and he was numb. It was better to be numb than to think about what Merry said.
Better than thinking about how he’d never see her again.
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