#if anyone more knowledgeable than me on the books could help that’d be great | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

i have even more ideas now...

what about like the moment you open up about your relationship with kazuxiao the fans who were already seeing that happen were celebrating and on both of y'alls insta or something is where you announce and it's like a picture of all 3 of you chilling together or something

and then when they finally appear on a variety show they're just questioned throughly and they talk about how you guys meet and what they like about you

ok but the moments where you just feel sort of insecure since being an idol is hard and you're technically dating your seniors and you're just hit by the antis who are against yourself relationship so you lock yourself in your room in your dorm by yourself to cope. your roommate (can be whoever) contacts them both and they immediately come over and come in and offer soft kisses and soft murmurs of reassurance that they'll never leave you and that everything's gonna be ok.

side note i can see xiao just being a whole meme without realizing?? for like variety shows he's just known for his dead pan expression and then i can see him being so competitive on shows like running man..mans ripping tags left and right, while kazuhas just hiding in a weird spot or something

kazuha on the other hand i can see him being a troll, he likes to mess around with the hosts of the show and manages to mess up some of their plans, he also likes messing with his group members, where xiao likes to say that kazuha looks innocent but is a part of the devil line with venti

onto albedo i can see him like answering questions in his vlive and fans realize that a lot of his songs are more romantic and sort of pining?? and they're asking where the motivation is from. he answers that it's just something that he saw recently so he felt motivated (it wasn't the fact that he had realized that he was 100% in love with you)

but like all of this mans inspiration comes from you, he's had multiple songs dedicated to you before your relationship was even open to the public, and when your relationship finally does, it just clicks for fans and it suddenly makes sense, your ship name trends worldwide for the day

but how you and albedo met, i can see both of you guys being in the industry already and you guys are sort of know each other but it was for a one time off collab with other artists involved so you didn't really talk with each other. like i said before albedos a solo artist while i can see you being a part of a popular group already. but then both of your companies decided to do another collab and especially picked you two since you guys already worked on a collab before.

at first it was like awkward since albedos really socially awkward but then things click when you guys start writing the song together. everything just matches so well?? and you guys just compliment each other?? and that's when you learn of albedo just staying at the studio so late so you often bring food. this leads to you guys getting closer and albedo even stops his work just to talk to you more. when your song comes out and everyone is waiting for the stage, there's just so much tension?? but the good kinda and everyone is awed by the song and the vocals coming from you and albedo.

i can also see the both of you guys appearing on variety shows together too, like appearing on a show where you two travel to another place and experience the culture there, with albedo being your tour guide and showing you all the famous places (one of the many times where fans were awed by his research and knowledge) and then if you guys were to appear together again after you guys reveal your relationship, a lot of the times they show idols as they wake up, they'll see you and albedo being clingy af to each other.

on another side note, albedos totally a troll on variety shows, he likes messing around with the hosts and other contestants since a lot of the time he's not really interested in the show itself, it's more for publicity. however, when he first appeared on a show with you fans noticed that he actually seemed interested for once and that's where your ship name started.

albedos totally a golden child tho, he's like basically perfect in everything so a lot of the times variety shows don't catch him slipping, however the one time that he did was when you were mentioned, the clip of with his ears bright red was trending for a couple of days :)

GIVING ME SO MUCH GOOD FOOD THANK YOU ANON

I think that this covers everything hehehe so I won't add to-

wait wait I put it all under the cut b/c it's a lot again-

Okay okay but like for the 'announcement' picture, what if it's like those photo booth pics (but like each picture you need to scroll through like on Insta) where it's cute and wholesome! The three of you are having fun wearing some silly glasses or hats, doing peace signs or finger hearts....and the very last photo is the three of you sharing a kiss- or, at least trying to.

It's sweet, a little silly, and most of your fans take it really well! After all, they can see the chemistry that you share and can't deny that the three of you would have a good relationship.

As for the insecurities of dating your seniors, Kazuha and Xiao are quick to knock back any of those worries. They love you so, so much and hate the fact that something like that makes you doubt for a single second. If anyone ever tries to bring it up, you know that they're going to immediately quip back.

Naturally, you're roomed with Venven :D He's technically an up-and-coming after he stopped doing idol stuff for a few years, so not only does he know the ropes, but he's also one of your biggest fans and biggest supports (outside of Kazuha and Xiao).

Though he's silly and light-hearted, he's quick to recognize when things are serious and need handling.

So as soon as he sees that you're not doing so great or if he notices the comments on your posts are going in a bad direction, he speed dials Xiao and the two of your boyfriends are right at the door in under 15.

Not only are they fast about it, but they have all your favorite snacks, a movie or two, some popcorn, and a ton of love and affection because they'll be damned if their love is going to be affected by some asshole's comments about their love life! What do they know anyway??

Actually this all could work too if Kazuha and Xiao are part of 4NEMO-

Hmmm

That'd cause so much more ruckus- not only is half of one of the most popular idol groups are taken, but by the same person??? And each other??? Man, that's wack.

BUT THE GAMESHOWS

Xiao would most certainly be super intense with those. He just can't help it--competition drives his blood and makes something snap in him. He's dead serious about doing well, regardless of the game. I actually have never watched said game shows, but--

Like...he's out for blood. No one is safe. Not even you or Kazuha if you're on opposing teams, though he'll be a bit more gentle. Maybe even with the hint of a smile while you have an expression of utter shock at the fact that he's just so fast-

Or if it's not a game show and instead you're doing some sort of idol group activity with a few others to get to know each other?

Someone suggests ping pong and, knowing how competitive Xiao gets, he's pitted up against Tartaglia and man. That's scary. There's no doubt that someone would clip the video and make it into an overly-dramatic retelling complete with music.

Hilarious.

As for Kazuha! He'd be a bit of a mish mosh! He enjoys poking fun at others, and he's so sly! Those poor hosts don't realize that he's goading them on, but sure enough--he is. Who knew that his charming smile and mild-mannered attitude could be so devastating?

But even then, he's mostly wholesome! There's a lot of little clips, mostly of your doing, of him in a 'kiss the chef' apron getting caught off guard while cooking something up. The videos aren't great because you're giggling while recording and he ends up placing the ladle down calmly before wrapping you up in his arms. Half the video ends up being the two of you laughing and joking while it's pointed at a weird angle towards the counter.

Sometimes it'll point just right and you'll get a half-blurred view of Xiao sitting at the kitchen island with his reading glasses perched on his nose and book forgotten. He tends to get up and join in for a few smooches before reminding Kazuha of the food that's still cooking.

Albedo!! He absolutely is the golden child. He's fantastic handling things under pressure in a cool, calm manner. Handsome, charismatic, incredibly smart--man's hit all the stops and just keeps going.

It's not until it comes out that the two of you are together that his cool façade (hardly one, though) falters and at the mere mention of you, he'll go soft. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a small smile on his lips, and his blush? Absolutely adorable. How can anyone object when he's obviously so in love with you?

And the idea you mentioned with the two of you traveling and experiencing stuff together sounds so cute (':

He particularly enjoys exploring new cuisine, so expect him to feed you some food from his plate-

There's also a few times where you two have gotten lost in the new places, more because you're both so busy taking in the sights to realize you've taken five wrong turns- But then you make it into a whole adventure, foregoing the map and deciding to wander around. What better way to discover and learn about somewhere than getting lost and wandering?

You find quite a few hidden gems this way since otherwise you'd be hitting more popular areas!

Wait- do they really show idols waking up???

Ahh regardless, Albedo's definitely a cuddler. He loves it, can't get enough of it. It's not often that he gets a good night's rest, but with you it seems like he's fully recharged and ready for the day! It's cute too because it doesn't matter--big spoon or little spoon, you on his chest or him resting on yours. Even a few times with you facing each other with your hands intertwined.

I also agree that Albedo would mess with the game show's hosts and contestants. Not only would he, but he'd be entirely smug about it (after all, we need to have that #smugbedo going on).

No doubt, there's been times where the cameras even focus/zoom in on him where he's sitting because he's got that smirk on his face.

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

both a little crazy // d.m

request: Hi! Just noticed ur requests r open! Can u please do a Draco x Slytherin Reader in which the Reader is a bad boss biatch and is TOTALLY savage, but her and Draco hides feelings for each other?

warnings: very brief mentions of torture, language?? not proof read bc i am sick and dont feel like it i am sorry

word count: 3.1k

a/n: don’t mind the fact that i based the reader off of rosa diaz. :)))) enjoy! (also yes i reposted this bc my tumblr wasnt working and tags were wonky!)

——

Your head was held rather high as you entered the Great Hall, your eyes pointed straight towards the Slytherin table in hopes that no one would talk to you as you walked over. It was way too early for conversation, in your opinion. Any attempt would just be sour.

You took your usual seat next to Pansy, who’s head was down on the table as she breathed slowly — quite possibly sound asleep. It wouldn’t be a surprise. She was not one for early mornings either. Quite possibly less so than you were.

The empty goblet in front of you was quickly filled with pumpkin juice before you took a big gulp, hoping the familiar liquid would help bring a bit of energy into you. However, that was a failed attempt as you felt your eyes stay heavy, your head swaying to the side slightly before a loud voice startled you out of your dozed out state.

“Crabbe, shut your mouth,” you snapped, silencing the boy sitting across from you who looked over with wide eyes, his mouth closing slowly, “You just woke up half the bloody hall with your laughter.”

Pansy jumped up from next to you, thick red marks across her forehead that resembled the wooden carvings on the table she was just rested against. You let out a low chuckle, eyes darting towards the entrance to the Hall — what you saw made you stop your laughing and sit up straighter.

Draco, accompanied by a brunette Slytherin, waltzed in with a smile on his face. You looked down immediately, hating the bubbling jealousy that threatened to emerge. You had seen the two together before but it didn’t help the sudden onslaught of negative emotions every time you saw him with her.

Maybe, possibly, you’ve had dreams where you use muggle torture techniques to keep her out of your life.

But no one needed to know that.

“Ah, Malfoy’s brought his admirer,” Pansy sighed, resting her chin on her hand, “What a surprise.”

You scoffed, trying to play it off, “When doesn’t he?”

No one knew of your little crush on Draco Malfoy. And if things were to go your way, no one would ever know. Being sly was always one of your specialties and you were rather proud of that. You didn’t let people in on a lot of secrets and you were bound to keep this one to yourself too.

“Fair point,” Pansy said lowly as Draco walked towards the table with an arrogant smirk on his face. A pleasantly attractive smirk, yes, but it was arrogant nonetheless. And you wanted to bite your own tongue off at the knowledge that the brunette was the one that put it there.

He sat across from you, seated between Crabbe and Blaise, but you didn’t greet him. Pettiness was overtaking your mood and you sat quietly, not even turning up to face him as you picked at some breakfast foods to put into your plate. Your day already felt like it was ruined — as dramatic as that was.

“You ready for tonight’s Quidditch game?” Blaise asked nonchalantly, taking a sip of tea and raising his eyebrows at Draco. You hid a scoff.

“Yep, can’t wait,” you sighed, leaning forwards, “The rain will really up the fun factor.”

You looked up at the bewitched ceiling, the heavy rain clouds pouring down on the students below. The drops obviously never reached anyone, but it was still awfully gloomy. You always hated playing in the rain. You’d end up in bed, shivering and wet with the early signs of a cold.

“Only reason I joined the team was to take down Gryffindor,” Draco sneered, “Will gladly get to do that tonight.”

“That’s if we win,” you scoffed, “Potter’s always got one up on you. You should probably fix that.”

After saying the words, you felt guilt blossom in your chest. You knew Draco’s weakness was the fact that his ‘sworn enemy’ Harry Potter always beat him — you had never really thrown it into his face until now.

You could see the change in his mood from the way his eyes grew slightly darker, glaring at you as if he wanted to retaliate. His shoulders slouched downwards and he leaned forwards on the table.

“Well, what’s got your wand in a twist this morning?” the corner of his lip curved up into a smirk and you had to force yourself to look away from him so you wouldn’t cave.

Shrugging, you kept your voice neutral, “Just saying. Maybe it’ll give you more incentive to win and prove me wrong,” you picked up your cup, avoiding eye contact if at all possible.

He eyed you, confusion laced into the creases of his forehead. You had never snapped at him like this before but you just couldn’t help it. The faint smirk quickly vanished and was replaced with a scowl as he turned down to face his plate.

You bit the inside of your cheek, absentmindedly picking at the scraps of bacon and toast on your plate. This section of table grew awfully quiet at your outburst, an awkward air surrounding all of you.

Being friends with Draco, it wasn’t rare that the two of you bickered. He always carried his nose and chin high, and sometimes you liked to knock him down a peg, no matter how much you swooned over the platinum headed boy. His charismatic charm was just one of the endless reasons he always thought he could get his way.

“Seriously,” Pansy leaned over and whispered in your ear, “What’s up? Why’d you say that?”

A blush rose to your cheeks and your snapped your head to her, “Out of my business, Parkinson.”

Her eyes widened and she held her hands up in surrender, “My bad.”

You let out a huff and went back to eating your meal, very much aware of Draco’s eyes piercing the top of your scalp as you kept your own eyes facing down, attempting with all of your might to avoid any more conversation than necessary.

Tonight’s match should be fun.

——

As usual, Potions class was a complete drag.

Snape was in his usual foul mood, nitpicking every single damn thing. You were used to it by now, having been in Snape’s house for nearly six years now, but it didn’t mean you particularly enjoyed it.

Least of all now, after being paired with Draco for a potions assignment.

If this were any other day, your heart would be doing leaps inside of your chest right about now — however the idea of just the two of you having to work together and talk was slightly nauseating after this morning’s outbreak.

“So,” he sat next to you, sliding awkwardly into the empty seat, “You still mad at me?”

You scoffed, flipping through the pages of you book, “Wasn’t cross with you.”

Fun fact about Draco Malfoy; he always saw right through you.

“C’mon,” he nudged your shoulder, causing you to look up from your book, “Don’t think you’ve ever spoken to me like that before.” His soft voice and piercing eyes were so hard to lie to. You always found yourself tempted to spill your deepest darkest secrets.

“I said I wasn’t mad at you,” you forced a smile, “I’ve got... other things going on.”

He didn’t believe you for a second, “What other things?”

You blessed Salazar and all of the Hogwarts founders that Snape decided to do his rounds, cutting your awkward conversation short and placing a piece of paper on your desk — the name of the potion you’d have to make.

Wiggenweld.

Grinning, you re-opened your book and began scanning through, landing on the very worn down page with said potion on it. You couldn’t count how many times you’ve made this, which was great since you could do it easily and get away from Draco as soon as possible.

“Stop ignoring me,” he pushed, a small smile on his face, “We’ve gotta team up and play well together tonight so you might as well come clean.”

“Stay out of my business and I won’t have to hex you,” you said through gritted teeth, your voice low so no one could overhead. You reckon that’d be quite embarrassing.

He leaned even closer to you — close enough that you could smell some sort of faint cologne and laundry detergent lingering on his house robes. Close enough that you could see the small strands of brown hair in the sea of bleach blond. Close enough that his eyes weren’t just blue; they were turquoise. Green stars scattered amongst a sky of blue.

Close enough that you nearly forgot to breathe.

“I’ll find out eventually, you know?” he looked over the page in your book and began writing the ingredients and steps down on the parchment in front of him.

You fought back a chuckle at his childish handwriting.

He offered to go get the ingredients and you let him do so as you cleaned up your desk, preparing it to become a potion station. You hated working in a dirty environment and so you attempted to make the dingy desk as spotless as possible.

Your partner had been gone for quite a while as you felt slightly guilty. There were quite a few ingredients to Wiggenweld and it’d be tough for him to walk back with everything in his hands. You gazed over to see if he needed help, your heart leapt up into your throat.

Draco was leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest and a smirk on his face as he chatted to the same Slytherin girl from breakfast.

You bit down on your tongue, fighting a deep breathe that would surely give away your overwhelming jealousy. After taking a good long moment to calm down the rapid, angry beating of your heart, you balled your fists behind your back and walked over to him.

“Give me these,” you snatched the bottles and ingredients from his hands, looking anywhere but his eyes as you turned away from him, “When you feel like actually doing the work, that’d be great.”

Storming back to the table and placing everything down in a somewhat organized fashion, you decided to turn over to Blaise at the table next to you, “Wanna switch partners?”

He let out a low chuckle, looking over to the quiet Hufflepuff boy that was chopping away at the other half of the ingredients, “Mine’s actually working so I’d say no.”

“So selfish,” you scoffed, shaking your head, “Mine’s off being a git.”

Dropping the tool he was using to grate a unicorn horn, Blaise crossed his arms and walked over to you, “Lucy? She’s great.”

You let your hair fall from behind your ears to hide your frustrated blush, “Yeah, she’s real great. Taking his time while he should be here working”

If you had looked away, you would have missed the smirk that overtook his face. However, you noticed it, and it only made the blush on your cheeks grow even deeper.

“Oh, I see what’s going on,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“No you don’t,” you snapped, “Go back to work or I’ll cut your tongue off and use it as an ingredient.”

He stepped back, but the smirk and amusement never left his face. Blaise was intuitive, yes — but you were being incredibly obvious, that much was certain. Him putting the pieces together was your fault, really.

“Oi, don’t attack me. If you’re to go after anyone, wouldn’t it be her?” he nudged his head in the direction of the girl that Draco was now walking away from, “after all, she’s the one stealing your man.”

“Shut your face,” you spoke lowly, glaring him down with all of your might as he walked back to his table with a chuckle. You watched as he went back to work before you decided to do the same yourself, picking up a tiny bottle and reading the label before unscrewing the tiny lid.

Draco’s bright head popped up on the other side of the table, “We getting started?”

Fighting the urge to snap, you nodded your head slowly, “So kind of you to join. Now get to work.”

He brushed your comment aside, stepping closer to you and ignoring your demand to get to work, “Do you know Lucy?”

Biting down on your tongue, you shook your head, “Nope. Your girlfriend?” You hated how bitter and insecure you sounded but at the moment, that was really the least of your concerns. All logic has been thrown out the window.

He rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh, “Bloody hell, no. She’s actually interested in Zabini. But I was wondering—”

“Wait, what?” you asked, nearly knocking a tiny bottle over as you leaned into the table, trying to get closer to him as if your hearing was off. Which, by the sound of what he said, you assumed it might be.

“What?” he stopped, “I’m trying to help her get with Zabini. He keeps talking about her.”

Suddenly, you felt like a complete idiot. The blush on your cheeks resurfaced and your heart did a leap against your ribcage.

“Oh,” you looked down, letting out a humourless chuckle, “I’m so sorry.”

Of course, you had jumped to conclusions. That’s what you always did. And now here you were, looking like a complete idiot and making your feelings blatantly obvious. The one thing you had been trying to avoid.

“Sorry? For what?” he was now the one to be confused, “What’s going on?”

“I—,” you blinked rapidly, looking over at him and trying your best to come up with any sentence that could make sense, “Nevermind. Let’s just get back to work.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly put off by how oddly you had been behaving all day so far, but he didn’t press the subject. You knew he’d ask you about it later, but that was for another time. You couldn’t exactly blame him either. If the tables were turned and he was the one behaving oddly, you’d be on his rear about it too.

You made a promise to yourself to talk to him after tonight’s game. The conversation might end up going against your one goal, and it might end up going really badly for you, but you had to tell him. It was time.

——

The Quidditch match ended up being a breeze. You guys ended up victorious by a landslide, Draco catching the snitch with a massive grin on his face. The relief spread through your body like a tidal wave as you watched him hold up the tiny golden ball — but what was even better was watching Gryffindor stalk off the field with glum expressions.

A real victory.

The Slytherin team gathered down on the pitch, surrounding a boastful Draco as he held his head high. A part of you wanted to go down, give him a hug and apologize for the rude comments you made this morning — but the other part of you thought that he was fine celebrating without you. You’re the one who made him feel like complete crap this morning; why would he want to celebrate with you?

You smiled from afar, walking into the Slytherin tent. You were alone, obviously. Everyone was still shouting and cheering on the pitch and you highly doubted the partying would end anytime soon.

The perfect escape for you.

You hung up your broom and removed your uniform, bundling yourself in a comfy sweater and leggings so you could walk back up to the castle without getting too cold now that the sun was gone.

Hoping no one would catch you sneaking off before party plans were made, you began to open the tent door, only to be interrupted by a voice.

“Not sticking around?”

You spun on the spot, facing a rather sweaty and satisfied looking Draco. You cursed his good looks under your breath, knowing that you’d have a hard time saying no to him while he looked like this.

“Not feeling well,” you lied, shrugging and looking down at the ground.

He stepped closer to you, “Right, you’ve been odd all day. What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing again.”

You took a deep breath, biting your lower lip as you gazed back up at him, looking into the eyes that made butterflies fly wildly in your belly.

“I spoke to Blaise and I think I know what your problem is,” he stepped even closer, the space between the two of you now only a few inches.

Letting out a small laugh, you shook your head, “That little git.”

He pursed his lips, placing one of his warm hands on the side of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat and you leaned into his touch, not sure where he was going with this but enjoying every second of it.

One step closer, and he was nearly flush against your body. He was radiating warmth, his entire body still high off of the win, and you swore he could feel your rapid heartbeat.

Why else would he be smirking like that?

His smirk didn’t last long, however, as his lips pressed against yours.

Many people say their first kiss with their crush is soft, delicate — this wasn’t the case here. His lips pressed against yours with feverish passion, bringing the temperature in the small tent up by at least ten degrees. His lips were hot and wet as they moulded against yours, both hands cupping the sides of your face as he locked his body up against yours.

How many times you dreamt of this, you couldn’t count. But by Merlin, was it better than you could have ever imagined. You felt as if you were dancing with him, letting loose and moving to a rhythm of heartbeats. It was truly a beautiful feeling; one that you hoped you’d get to experience again.

“Well,” he muttered against your lips after pulling away, “Guess I was right.”

You wanted to retaliate and give him a sarcastic comment, but your mind was too numb and flummoxed to do so.

“Sorry I was acting all crazy,” you sighed, looking up into his blissful eyes, “Perhaps it’s true when they say jealousy makes people do crazy things.”

“It’s alright, love,” he smirked, placing hands on both sides of your waist and pulling you even closer, “We’re both a little crazy then.”

It felt like hippogriffs were fluttering around your belly as he kissed you once more, hands tightening their grip as he deepened the passionate act.

This would be awkward to explain when the team walked in, but for now, the two of you were perfectly content as you were.

Finally together.

——

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#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot

400 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 4 years

Note

First your writing is amazing! Second if you’re willing to write for young Snape will you consider writing him with a fellow classmate (Slytherin)? They’re best friends and there’s been mutual pining but neither of them recognize it, even though her other friends have tried to convince her that Snape is into her. And eventually he’s the one to finally confess and as he anxiously rambles on, she interrupts him by kissing him.

No worries if you don’t want to write it!

SO CUTE. THESE ARE THE BEST IDEAS. This one is stupid cheesy and fluffy.

(Below the cut ofc) :)

Taking Chances

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,355

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?”

“He’s looking at you again.” Your friend whispered from where she sat across from you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the familiar Slytherin boy that you had become so acquainted with over the years. He was sitting by himself at one of the tables in the Hogwarts library, an overly large Advanced Potions book open in front of him. His black hair was unkempt and had grown well past his ears, his slender frame hunched over his study material as he quickly averted your gaze once you gave him a friendly smile.

You turned your attention back to your friend who was looking at you with a knowing smirk. You raised a brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“He likes you.” She stated quietly so no one else could hear.

You gave her a heavy sigh in response. Not this again.

“We’ve been over this. Severus doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends.” You explained, hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Friends who spend every day together and very clearly have a thing for each other.” She argued back, tapping her quill on her parchment.

It was common knowledge within the Slytherin House that you and Severus Snape were the unofficial couple of all the sixth years. The two of you had grown extremely close during your time at Hogwarts, and there weren’t many things that the two of you didn’t know about each other. You tended to be so close that you were blind to the fact that you both were crazy about each other.

“Is it so wrong for me to have a close friend who happens to be a boy?” You asked, feeling Severus’ stare on you again.

She shrugged, completely forgetting about the assignment she had been working on. Your other friends had been telling you for years that he admired you. They noticed the way he hid his face behind his hair when you complimented him or said something kind. Or the way he squirmed in his seat whenever you entered a room and sat next to him. The only time he ever really seemed to smile or have any sense of happiness at all was when you were around.

Other students always gave him such a hard time. He was a shy, quiet kid with not a lot of backbone to defend himself. He let other kids toss him around and walk all over him. You had always felt sorry for him. Any initial encounter you had with him had been nothing but pleasant. You were a popular Slytherin girl, boys and girls alike of all Houses were constantly feigning for your attention.

Severus was the only one who you had ever had any interest in.

He had a pure heart, which was more than you could say for anyone else who had ever tried to win you over. He was just a little different was all. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. You steadily began to build a beautiful friendship, and you saw a side of Severus that you were sure no one else would ever witness. He quickly became your best and most trusted friend.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with him though.

“Not at all. I’m just saying that it’s clear that you’re dancing around one another.” She pointed out, briefly looking at Severus and then back to you.

You didn’t offer any kind of response, hoping she’d drop the conversation. You were sure that she, along with the rest of your friends, were horribly wrong. You didn’t believe that Severus had feelings for you, no matter how badly you wanted it to be true.

She leaned in even closer, her voice even quieter than before.

“You know, [Y/N]...there’s no shame in making the first move.” She advised.

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and be horribly rejected and humiliated? No thanks.” You replied curtly.

She shot you a doubtful look.

“Come on. Severus would never embarrass you. The worst that could happen is that he says no to a date,” She said, trying her hardest to persuade you; “Just take a chance. You never know what might happen.”

You rolled your eyes again, packing up your stuff. You were done with this conversation.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend my time with someone less pushy.” You insulted your fellow Slytherin friend.

She didn’t take that personally. She brushed it off, knowing you were just frustrated. You moved yourself and your belongings to the table where Severus was sitting.

“Can I sit here?” You asked him sweetly, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

He nodded in response, acting as if he hadn’t just been staring at you for the last half hour. A hot blush crept onto his pale cheeks so he shook his head slightly to push his hair in front of his face to hide it.

“How is your Potions homework going? I haven’t done mine yet.” You asked, eyeing the book he had been reading from.

“Rather well. I can help you with yours, if you want.” He said.

Your chest fluttered gratefully at his offer. Severus was exceptional when it came to Potions. It wasn’t a shocker that he had chosen to take Advanced Potions this year. You were decent enough at it to qualify for the advanced class, but you still struggled with some concepts. Severus, on the other hand, completely aced it.

“That’d be great. This chapter has been hard for me.” You admitted, reaching into your bag to retrieve your less impressive Potions textbook.

He began to walk you through the homework, pointing out what each section required you to do. You had placed yourself next to him, watching as he scribbled the names of ingredients and amounts of each on the parchment. You watched how his focus trained in on what he was doing, and how he carefully explained certain concepts to you.

He was so cute when he was confident.

“You try this last one. It lists the ingredients and you have to figure out what potion the question is asking for.” He said, handing your quill back to you.

When you took it from his grip, your fingers brushed against his for a moment. His skin was surprisingly supple, yet calloused in some areas on his hand.. He spent a lot of time brewing potions, so you expected him to have some wear on them. Your eyes met his for a moment, looking stunned that your hands had just touched.

You quickly zoned back into your work, ignoring the flushing feeling you felt in your legs. He patiently waited for you to read the ingredients listed. He noted how your brows furrowed in concentration while you racked your brain of all the possible answers. You were dedicated to your work and education. You were motivated to be a successful witch after you graduated next year. He admired your work ethic and determination. He was so fond of the way you went out of your way to make him feel seen. You genuinely cared for him and made him happy.

“I think it’s...Everlasting Elixir?”” You said, half content with your answer.

“Exactly,” Severus confirmed; “You’re better at Potions than you give yourself credit for.”

You swallowed hard at his compliment, but gave him a kind smile. He really could be so charming...even if it was unintentional.

“Thanks, S. You’ve been a huge help.” You returned the compliment.

He gave a rare, but cute smile in return. He was more than willing to help you. A silence grew between the two of you. Suddenly, neither of you could think of what to say. You thought about what your friend had been saying. Maybe you should make a move. It wasn’t like it would kill you if you did. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by any means, but you were afraid you’d regret it if you let this go undiscussed.

“Do you want to meet me in the courtyard later? The sunset is always so pretty this time of year and I hate watching it alone.” You said, deciding you needed more time if you were going to do this.

Sunset watching? Severus thought about that idea for a second or so. You hadn’t ever done that together. Wasn’t that something that couples did?

“Yes. I’d like that.” He accepted.

You sheepishly laughed, nodding excitedly.

“I’ll see you then.” You said, getting up from your seat and dashing out of the library.

You had to prepare yourself for any outcome. At least now you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.

Dusk came quickly over Hogwarts castle, faster than you wanted it to. The sky blended into a beautiful canvas of orange, purple, and red. You were sitting on a concrete ledge, your feet swinging over the side. You had been building this moment up in your head all day. You still didn’t even know what you were going to say. How would he react? What if it totally destroyed your friendship?

There were too many unknowns that you just didn’t want to deal with if you didn’t have to.

The courtyard was surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening. Usually there were all kinds of students spread out around it. You took that as a blessing though. At least now there wasn’t anyone around to witness your possible rejection. Soon after, you spotted Severus entering the courtyard. He was walking with his head lowered slightly, per usual. However, he seemed to be standing a little taller than he usually did.

“Hi, Severus.” You greeted.

He was lovestruck at how beautiful you looked in the golden hour lighting. Your skin glowed and your eyes sparkled with perfection. He just couldn’t understand how anyone could feel this strongly about someone. He often wished that you were trained in Legilimency so you could read his mind every time you saw him.

That way you’d know how he felt about you. He thought that he made his feelings clear over the last few years. He was obviously interested when he had conversations with you or even when he was in your presence. You were the only person he helped with Potions or any class for that matter. He had laid his feelings out on the table in the only way he knew how. Couldn’t you see how his heart yearned for you?

“You look wonderful.” He said as boldly as he could, taking a spot next to you.

You smiled for the thousandth time that day, thanking him graciously. You looked to the sky, mesmerized by the pretty swirls of color.

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?” You asked, sighing contently.

Severus replied, but his eyes weren’t on the sky. But you didn’t notice.

“Yes. Every time.” He confessed, his black eyes on you.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t aware that you watch the sunset often.” He stated.

You shrugged.

“I don’t do it every day. Just when I have time for it.” You explained, gaze still fixed on the sky.

He nodded in understanding. He thought about how you were a lot like a sunset. Beautiful, comforting, calm, consistent. He knew he could always count on you to show up for him. He loved that. He was close enough to you that your shoulders were almost touching. If he paid attention, he could feel body heat radiate off of you.

“Did you have a nice rest of your day?” He questioned.

He was always so curious to hear about your day. Every aspect of your life fascinated him. You liked that he always cared about the seemingly small things.

“I did. I managed to finish all my homework. I’m tired of having weekend work.” You laughed.

He laughed as well, a soft, calculated sound bubbling out of him. You felt your nerves begin to rise back in your belly. You had to do this while the moment was right. You had to get on with it. Just ask him how he felt...or rather confess your own feelings. You had put this off for far too long.

Take a chance. Just take a chance.

You took a breath to speak, ready to bite the bullet, but he beat you to the punch.

“[Y/N], can I tell you something?” He asked, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

You were stunned for a split second, but recovered rapidly.

“Of course. Anything.” You prompted him to go on.

He looked to his feet, his shyness shining through. He gulped and anxiously pushed his hair behind his face.

“I really like you.” He confessed through a tight breath.

Your brain short circuited. No way. The tables had surely turned. A million emotions crashed over you like a giant, ocean wave. You were flooded with excitement, relief, happiness, and love all at once. Severus went on.

“Uhm a-and not just as a friend. I lov- I like you a lot more than that,” He announced; “I d-don’t want you to be mad at me now, but-”

And then you kissed him, gently and sweetly.

It caught him off guard at first, not expecting that reaction. He took it as a good sign, kissing back before it was too late to do so. He never saw this moment coming, but he was so glad that it did. He had never had a girlfriend before, but he was pretty sure he was going to like it.

You pulled back to look at Severus, who was wildly blushing now.

“I’m definitely not mad.” You smirked.

He smiled softly and contently.

“You like me too?” He asked, wanting to be absolutely sure.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” You nodded happily.

He exhaled with relief. This was more than either of you could’ve ever dreamed of. It was something you had wanted for long that it almost didn’t feel real. He kissed you this time, adoring the feel of you against him. For a moment, your mind went to the conversation you had earlier. You knew one thing for sure.

You would definitely take chances more often.

#severus snape #severus #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #professor snape #professor snape x reader #professor snape x you #alan rickman #seriouslysnape

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pomrania · 4 years

Text

I thought I might as well make a list of art tutorials I want to see. Very specific phrasing there; I don't know if they exist, or if there's lots of them, but I personally haven't come across any of these (or at least not recently enough for me to have learned anything from it). So if you have a link to one, it'd be great if you could share it; if you feel like MAKING one of these, that'd be awesome, and I'd also like it if you could share it with me.

placement of highlights on dark skin. I'm talking "highlights" in the visual-art sense here, like where light would catch on someone's face. I happen to be extremely pale, so "highlights" pretty much never show up on me (so I can't use myself for reference). Also, I'm not very good at figuring stuff out from just looking at pictures, unless there's words to guide me about what I'm actually seeing, so "look at pictures of people with dark skin under various lighting conditions" is more advanced than what I could make use of, at least at the moment.

how to draw armour. Like, the principles of armour, and what things look like. I don't mean SPECIFIC armour for a time and place, but like, things to help me if I'm just drawing a D&D character. The areas that need to be protected, the shapes that pieces can go in to protect those areas, how things might connect, what joints are like.... This isn't solely "art advice", I know, but if there's anyone who nerds out about the various types of armour throughout history, and wants to talk about how those look and general principles, I'd love to hear it.

ways to make a face and/or figure seem more or less masculine or feminine. A lot of the drawing books I've read, they're like "here's how to draw people, and here's how to draw women", and then they give a very exaggerated thing for the latter. That's a) stupid and b) binarist and c) not useful when you want to fiddle with individual elements of a character. For example, a cis woman who is muscular and doesn't wear makeup or have her tits out, but is still clearly a cis woman; or someone who is drawn as intentionally androgynous, as opposed to the "androgyny" I get when I barely draw the facial features. And again, I'd need actual guidance here, I can't just look at pictures of stuff, I'm not at that level yet.

what different face shapes actually look like. I don't mean "the polygons that form the face", I mean, what an "oval face" or a "square face" looks like, on actual people. When I've tried searching for this, at best I get "makeup tips for different face shapes", or "these are celebrities with these face shapes". I want to be able to look at some random person and IDENTIFY their face shape so I can name it, and ideally also use that knowledge to draw distinct faces (without going into cartoony stuff). Heck, I'd like to be able to understand what ALL those different facial descriptions actually look like, and be able to USE them. I've seen things with different kinds of lips, noses, etc, but only singular examples, and only in isolation. And that isn't very good for understanding something. (I also have a non-art reason for this. I am unusually bad at recognizing people, and individual facial features, across people, only vary by small angles or measurements. If I could look at someone and put a NAME to what I see, there’s a greater chance of me recognizing them, because I’m comparing “discrete tags of these variables” instead of “fuzzy concepts”.)

how that "woodcut" style of shading and all actually works. It looks really cool, and I want to learn it. It's not just woodcuts, but also in like the older D&D (and other gaming) books, where they were printed in black and white (not greyscale), so needed to convey everything with lines. Some of this stuff, I'd be able to figure out myself from copying it out, and practice; but it'd save me some of the trial-and-error stage if I could learn some of the "theory" of it first.

how to draw mess. Like, when I've tried drawing indoor scenes, the rooms (when I've actually drawn a ROOM, and not just lines to vaguely suggest the presence of walls) all seem empty, even once I started drawing actual furniture, and I've come to the conclusion it's because they're too "neat", unlived-in, like a showroom house. And where I live, there's PLENTY of mess I could use as reference to draw, but a) I'm not doing "portraits of my living quarters", and b) there's a whole lot of space between "hotel-level neat room" and "the den of clutter in which I reside", and c) there has to be some shortcuts in depicting this stuff.

#no fandom #not a reblog

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xummie · 4 years

Text

How to Beat Fate

For @strykiss, Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy!

On every person's 15th birthday, they develop a soul mark. Find the person with a matching mark, and you've found your soulmate. Fate leads most soulmates together by their 21st birthdays, and the members of Stray Kids were no exceptions - all but one that is.

WC: 3554

This is actually going to turn into a full on SKZ Soulmate AU series.

---

A 15th birthday is supposed to be an exciting day, but Han Jisung's was not a day worth remembering as it was the day he learned he was cursed to live a loveless life. Jisung did not develop a normal soulmate mark, instead he developed a very rare mark that most consider a curse. This mark has been recorded as a soulmate-less mark through the centuries, owners of this mark never finding their true love because they lived years before the current bearer of the mark was born or many years after their death. Being a generally happy person, Jisung was able to push past his mark and just chase his dreams. As long as he hid his mark no one knew what it was, and as long as no one brought it up Jisung was able to keep it off his mind; until his members started finding their soulmates, that is.

The first to find his match was Seungmin at the very young age of 16 while he was still training. Everyone was surprised to learn they'd debut with an already partnered member, but as any good family they all loved Seungmin's soulmate like a sibling.

One night after moving into the dorm together everyone was hanging out in the living room and the topic of soul marks was breached, so everyone started showing off theirs. Jisung became unusually quiet as everyone boasted about their marks - hoping to get through the night without anyone asking to see his - But he was not so lucky.

“Jisung-hyung, what’s your mark?” Jeongin’s simple, harmless question had Jisung’s heart racing.

“Oh, nothing special.” He muttered, holding his sleeve balled up in his hand. “Yours are all way cooler.”

“Aw come on, show us!” Felix practically pounced on Jisung, playfully pulling his arm out of his lap as Minho joined in and pulled up his sleeve.

Minho gasped when he saw the mark and pulled Jisung’s sleeve back down quickly, but the collective “Oh” that went around the room told them that everyone had seen enough of it to know why Jisung hadn’t wanted to show it. Jisung couldn’t bear everyone’s looks of pity and he stood swiftly, bolting to his room and slamming the door shut as tears began to pour down his face.

A light knock at the door before it opened signaled someone’s presence, and Jisung was surprised when the person to speak wasn’t one of his roommates.

“Jisung, I’m so sorry. We were just surprised.” Chan’s voice was truly apologetic and Jisung heard the springs of another bed protest as Chan sat. “That must be hard… I can’t even imagine knowing...”

“I try to forget about it most of the time but… yeah, it’s not fun.” Chan had to strain to hear Jisung, whose face was buried in his pillow. “Especially when people react like that. I already know I’m cursed, but why does everyone have to act like I’ll infect them or something?”

“That’s not what it was. We were surprised to see it, nothing else. No one is scared of you. Everyone is worried about you right now.”

“And now they’re always going to be worried for poor Jisung, who is cursed to be alone.”

“You have us now…” Chan knew that didn’t really help. “And I don’t think you’re cursed. I think you’re destined for something that wouldn’t be possible with a partner.”

Jisung scoffed. “Like what? What incredible feats did anyone else with my mark accomplish?”

“One was a great mathematician. One was a renowned poet. Maybe this means you’ll be a rapper or composer good enough for the history books.”

“Sure.” Jisung was not convinced in the slightest. “Thanks for trying Channie-hyung, but I think I just need to be alone for a bit. Tell everyone I fell asleep or something.”

“Alright. Just know we’re here for you, OK? We’re your brothers now, and brothers stick together, yeah?”

---

Seungmin remained the only one to have found his soulmate until three months post debut when Bang Chan found his at a coffee shop. He brought his soulmate to the dorm not long after meeting them and everyone instantly welcomed the new member of their family. Jisung was especially friendly, treating the new partner as if they’d been part of the group as long as Seugnmin’s.

Barely a week later Hyunjin's soulmate ran into him, literally, as they were rushing to school and Hyunjin to practice. Unlike Chan, Hyunjin decided to keep his soulmate to himself for a while, going on cute dates and not telling anyone. He managed to keep his secret for about a month until one day Jisung noticed a text message and wouldn't let Hyunjin do anything until he told him. Hyunjin didn’t want to tell Jisung first, but Jisung was so happy to have their family grow again that Hyunjin soon became glad he was the first to find out.

What Hyunjin didn’t see was Jisung crying himself to sleep that night before anyone else went to bed. Two soulmates in a month, and so early into their time as an idol group, it was like a knife had been planted into Jisung’s heart. Seungmin had found his soulmate before they were even living together and it really hadn’t hurt Jisung more than any other relationship in the world did. But now it just felt like every soulmate his brothers brought home would be another jab of the knife, another twist, until finally everyone had a partner and he’d be left bleeding and alone.

Even so, Jisung made it his mission in life to make sure the soulmates always felt like a part of the group. When on tours, Jisung was in charge of keeping everyone in communication. When Hyunjin would pass out too early to call his partner, Jisung would text them and let them know he was fine, just tired. When Chan didn’t come home from the studio Jisung would text his partner to see if they knew where Chan was or how he was doing, and if they didn’t then he’d check on the leader himself. Helping keep everyone happy was Jisung's way of distracting himself from the fact that he'd never have a relationship like his brothers did and it worked, most of the time.

Minho was next, two years later, finding his soulmate working at a cat cafe that he frequented when he missed his cats. He texted Jisung about them first, thinking Jisung would be ecstatic to welcome another new member of their family. He was surprised when Jisung's response came hours later instead of the usual immediate reply, but thought he must have forgotten about a schedule Jisung had. The truth was, Jisung saw the text right away and had to take time to let his jealousy cool down before he could respond with the expected energy and excitement. As he suspected, another partner, another twist of the knife and the more alone he felt.

Jisung’s relationship with Minho’s partner was nothing like the other three, and he hated himself for it. He tried. He tried so hard to treat them the same, but deep down he knew there was something off. Five months later he was the last to find out that Changbin had met his soulmate as the older boy was scared to hurt Jisung with the knowledge. They all saw how each new partner made him sadder, no matter how hard he tried to hide it by being overly welcoming, and Changbin felt truly bad to hurt Jisung again. It was all so confusing, he was happy for his brothers but at the same time he just couldn’t shake the jealousy and sadness.

A year passed without another soulmate and Jisung was mostly back to his happy-go-lucky self, his attempts to treat all the partners as equals being far less taxing than before. That is until one day when he overheard Chan and Felix talking in their room and even though they were speaking English he could understand enough to make him furious. He threw the door to the room open, making both men jump.

“Oi Jisung, what-” Chan started before Jisung cut him off, yelling at Felix.

“You’re complaining that your soulmate is in Australia?! Is that what you were saying? My English might not be perfect but I don’t think I mistranslated that.”

“Eh, yeah but Jisung, why are you yelling at me?” Felix was shocked, shrinking back farther onto his bed at Jisung’s anger.

“You found your soulmate last week in Australia? You’re telling Chan-hyung you wish you’d never found them because now you have to have a long distance relationship? How ungrateful can you be?!”

“Jisung, lay off him, he's just trying to adjust.”

“No! I have to live my entire life without a soulmate, and you have the audacity to complain that yours is a phone call away? Felix how is that even something to complain about with today’s technology? How is that even-” Jisung’s voice broke as he choked back tears. “-even a problem?”

“I’m sorry Jisung I wasn’t really complaining I was just trying to work out how to make this work best.” Felix’s deep voice told just how sorry he way, but as he stood to pull Jisung into a hug the other man shook his head and turned, exiting the room and slamming the door to his own as he flopped onto his bed and let loneliness overtake him. He jumped when his door popped open and Chan poked his head in.

"Jisung, can we talk?" The leader asked as he sat on the edge of Jisung's bed and started rubbing his back. "I know what you must have been able to understand from Felix wasn’t exactly what he meant, can I explain?” Jisung replied with a tearful mumble into his pillow which Chan couldn’t understand. “What’s that?”

Jisung turned his head just enough to let the words reach Chan. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have blown up at him like that.”

“Yeah, but I get it, that’d be a pretty tactless thing to complain about even behind your back.”

“I probably didn’t fully understand him, I should’ve made sure I understood before losing my temper. But it hurt so much, Channie-hyung. Just thinking someone in the would could be so ungrateful, that finding your soulmate could be so taken for granted that you could complain about it.”

Chan nodded, “Felix wasn’t complaining about finding his soulmate. He was just telling me that he doesn’t know what to do with them in Australia. He misses his family so much as it is, and now to have his other half so far away, he was asking me if I could help get the company to fly them here.”

“See, that’s not bad. I’m so stupid, I need to go apolo-”

“No, Felix understands. You can apologize later. For now, it’s OK to let your feelings out.”

“I just feel so alone.” A new wave of tears overtook Jisung and Chan just let him cry for a few moments.

“You’re not alone, we’re all here for you Jisung.” Chan’s voice was soft and reassuring, and yet it didn’t help Jisung one bit.

“You all have your partners. Or at least you will. I have no one.” He sat up as he talked and put a hand over Chan’s mouth, stopping his rebuttal. “One day we’ll disband, you’ll go off and start your families, have solo careers or just leave the limelight all together. What’ll I do? Keep working my ass off till I drop because there’ll be nothing else to keep me busy? Live in an empty flat with me myself and I? Get a pet? While all around me the world laughs in my face, constantly reminding me of the love I’ll never receive?”

Chan sighed and pulled Jisung into a tight hug. “I would hope that even after we disband we’d all stay connected. I know I’ll want you in my family’s life, as my kids’ uncle Ji, and so would everyone else.”

“So I’m just supposed to be the entertaining uncle? With my little nieces and nephews asking why I don’t have a partner, why my mark is so weird, why I don’t have kids?”

“Well yes children are curious creatures so I’m sure they’d ask. But they wouldn’t care, wouldn’t judge. And if you want a family, there’s always those whose soulmates have died. You can still find love, Jisung, even if it’s not in the expected way.”

Jisung shook his head. “Not even a widow would fall in love with a curse.”

Chan rolled his eyes, though Jisung couldn’t see that. “ You aren’t a curse Han Jisung, and I don’t think your mark is either. Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s damning. Sure, you may have to wait a while to find love, but I think you’ll find it. And whether you do or don’t, if you want children you can always adopt, we’d all help you and you know it.”

Jisung thinks about that suggestion for a moment and then shrugs. “I guess maybe. Thanks Channie-hyung. He gives Chan a hug and then sits back. “I think I’m going to take a nap before practice.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wake you up when we need to go.” Jisung gave Chan a light smile as he left the room.

---

Another year passed and neither Jisung nor Jeongin found their soulmates, not that Jisung expected too. Through the year the group stayed extremely busy and Jisung was able to push his loneliness and jealousy to the back of his mind for the majority of it. His 21st birthday, however, was not a day that let him ignore his fate. They had their normal midnight “surprise” with a cake and a surprise live, which Jisung managed to put on a happy facade for, and then they went to bed. When Jisung woke up annoyingly early on the morning of September 14th he knew the day would be a bad one, and he didn’t want his brothers to try making it better.

I’m spending the day with my family, I’ll be back late. Jisung texted the group chat as he left the dorm, having no intention of actually seeing his family or anyone he cared about on that day. He wandered on the streets for a while, not caring where he went. He found himself grabbing coffee at a shop he’d never been in before as he ignored the messages coming in from his waking members. The constant notifications from his phone became frustrating and he powered it off, he didn’t have a schedule that day so there was no reason for anyone to look for him while they thought he was with family.

He sat in the back corner of the coffee shop for about an hour, sipping on his drink and staring at the table, trying to stop the onslaught of emotions and thoughts from getting too strong. When he left he took a random set of turns, trying to lose himself in the city. He walked around for another hour or so before ending up at a park and hiding against a tree where he broke down, not for the last time that day.

People could find their soulmates after they turned 21, it wasn’t unheard of even if uncommon, but hitting 21 still felt like the final nail in Jisung’s coffin of fate. He hated that he had gotten so lonely even with everyone around him, hated that he couldn’t just accept living a partnerless life and move on with things. He thought about his members’ relationships with their partners, something he tried to stop himself from pondering any other day, and he let the sadness wash over him like a tsunami, hoping that maybe allowing it all to consume him for a day would lessen his pain later. As he let the thoughts run free in his mind he began to sob, screaming at the world, asking why he had to be the one to carry the lonely mark.

At some point he fell asleep against the tree, waking to the sun on his face and dogs barking in the park. He stood and stretched, feeling no better than before. He moved on, hoping that no one had thought to check on the man against the far tree and taking pictures of him. He began walking randomly again, taking turn after turn with no care of where he ended up. Suddenly he stopped as he heard a cacophony of children’s laughter and playful screaming. He looked towards the sound, thinking he must have ended up near a school and being surprised when he realized it was actually an orphanage.

He watched the kids playing outside for a few minutes, actually smiling at the contagious laughter and the games being played. Chan’s words from what felt like forever ago came back to him then “ You can always adopt”. Without consciously making a decision to move he found himself walking up to the orphanage door and knocking. He cursed himself as he knocked and turned around quickly, thinking he was crazy and having no idea why he was knocking in the first place. He couldn’t adopt a child now, Stray Kids were in the height of their popularity and not slowing down any time soon, none of them could take care of children yet.

Before he could take more than a step away the door opened. “Hello young man, how can I help you?”

“I-I don’t know.” Jisung stuttered awkwardly, suddenly realizing how swollen his face must be from all his crying. “I’m sorry for bugging you, I don’t know why I knocked. I’ll leave you be.”

“Young man, you seem to need something to do.” The kind woman smiled at him knowingly. “It just so happens that two of my helpers called in sick today and it’s lunch time, would you like to help me prepare the children’s lunches?”

Jisung stood in shock for a moment and then shrugged. “Sure, I… I think that’d be good.”

The woman led him into the orphanage, naming children as they passed. A particularly chubby little boy who couldn’t be any older than five ran over as they passed and clung to Jisung’s leg, laughing wordlessly as Jisung tried to pry him off, causing Jisung too to chuckle, the sound surprising him.

“What’s your name young man?” The woman asked as they reached the kitchen.

“Han Jisung, ma’am.”

“And what were you doing in this area, Han Jisung?”

“Just wandering, really. I have the day off and didn’t really know what to do with myself.”

“That explains the lost look. Well I appreciate your help, it’s been a tough day.” Jisung returned the woman’s kind smile as they began prepping food. They chatted lightly as they cooked, and Jisung loved talking with all the kids as he helped serve their lunches.

“Have you ever fed a baby, Jisung?” The kind woman asked.

“A baby? No ma’am I haven’t.”

“Well come sit down over here, you can feed this little one his bottle. Hold her like this.” The woman showed Jisung what to do and he cooed over the little girl as she fell asleep drinking the bottle.

Jisung spent the rest of the day at the orphanage, only realising what time it was when the older kids returned from school. Luckily none of them were old enough to recognize him, all being elementary schoolers. He had so much fun entertaining the kids that he truly forgot about his worries for a while. He stayed long enough to help with dinner and then decided that he should head home.

“Thank you for today, honestly today was going to be one of the worst days of my life but I don’t think I can say that anymore, these kids really changed it.”

“Well, I’m glad we could help.” The woman laughed as she walked him to the door. “You know, we can never have too many hands around here, really we always need a few extra pairs. I’m sure you have your own life to lead, but anytime you want to stop in and play with the kids, we’d love to have you.”

Jisung smiled widely. “Thank you, I’ll be back as often as I can be. My schedule is kind of all over the place, but I’ll be here whenever I can.”

“It was nice to meet you, Han Jisung.”

“You too, ma’am. Have a good night.” And with that Jisung headed back to the dorm, his thoughts revolving around the children and planning out times when he could return.

Chan was right, he would find love and family one day, even without a soulmate. He didn’t want to rush anything with Stray Kids, he would perform with them as long as he could. But where he used to be terrified of the day they’d disband, he now had something to look forward to. When that day came, he knew he’d be adopting a child and starting a family of his own. Those kids were just like him, worried that they’d never have a family of their own, but he knew there was hope for all of them, just as he now knew there was hope for him.

#skz angst #skz fanfic #skz soulmate au #soulmate marks #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #changbin #skz au #skz #hyunjin #han jisung #jisung #lee felix #seungmin #jeongin #skz ensemble #sad jisung #angst with hopeful ending

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vampiresuns · 4 years

Text

Portrait Of The Lawyer As A Young Man

3k words. All of Julianus’ life has been about fulfilling social expectations. Not any more.

Note: This fic contains some time changes. They’re all separated but they’re not linear. This pieces art is the cover of the centennial edition of James Joyce’s ‘Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man’.

CW: Superficial discussions of unhealthy family dynamics.

The song for this piece is Expectations by Belle & Sebastian. Saoirse, Meredith and the Crew of The Jagged Ruby belongs to @apprenticealec.

Part 4 of Secrets Of An Ancient Moon series; you can read the rest of it here.

Dusk fell in the sky making the colours of the water change. Meredith whistled at Jules to get their attention, calling them aside. When they reached port again in four days, they’d reach Jules’ original destination, marking the end of their voyages in The Jagged Ruby. Julianus didn’t need Meredith to tell them this, they already knew: they had been counting the days obsessively, watching them slip by as they found a chance to speak to the Captain.

Meredith had found them first. It was now or never.

“Hopefully this,” Meredith said, raising the legal study Julianus had made for her a couple of months ago, “will help us with our Syd problem. I’m not going to pat you in the back, Sanlaurento, so just let me say this: you’ve got it in you, you’re a pain in my ass, I hope whoever opposes you in a court shit themselves. Now, leave.”

When Meredith looked back up, Jules was still there, looking at them with a frown and an intensity which the Captain had seen in them before, but never directed at them. Jules had been travelling with them for months. When they had manifested on the ship to become Meredith’s personal pest and unlikely legal advisor, the Quinquennial meeting was in the long term future still, they had time for it. Now, the meeting would happen in three months.

In all that time, Meredith had had time to watch them, even if they didn’t want to. She hated to admit it, but the asshole had guts. J.C. was clever, a fast learner, and seemed to know themselves well enough to anticipate their shortcomings. Analytical and strong-willed, in other circumstances they’d make an excellent addition to the crew.

They learnt the basics of sailing faster than Meredith had given them credit for, their basic knowledge of sword-fighting was getting honed by the week. They had never taken a shot against an actual person, but their aim had gotten notoriously better. Julianus got treats for the crew if you left them unsupervised, and somehow, always, found someone to help with legal advice, no matter were they were.

So yes, Meredith had seen that intensity before. She’d seen it when they put themselves between a vendor and a guard, suddenly carrying more presence and even a slight high-society touch to the way they conducted themselves. She’d seen it whenever they tried, again and again, to perfect something, never expecting to be handed anything. She’d seen it whenever they talked about Injustice, or the Sea Palace, or Freedom, or People.

It all shone through, even through the many flaws or annoyances Meredith saw in their character — anxious, irritable, high-horsed, mysterious for no damn reason.

“I said leave, why are you still here.”

“Meredith?”

The Captain raised an eyebrow. Sanlaurento never addressed her without an honorary.

“I didn’t remember us being friends— You smooch my quartermaster and…” Meredith stopped, a grimace overtaking her face. “This is about them, isn’t it. No, I’m not having a heart to heart about fucking Saoirse with you. Sanlaurento, I’m still your fucking Captain.”

“No, it’s not about Saoirse. It’s about me.”

“Right, because that’d make me care.”

J.C. frowned back at Meredith, trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes but failing to do so. “Even if they are a factor in my considerations. I’m well aware that if I talked to them, I could manage to see them anywhere and write to them even, given they write to Jacqui all the time.”

“If you’re going to talk anyway, at least do me the favour of going to the point, Sanlaurento.”

“Captain, I want to stay.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sky was clear in the island of Sirenia, a cool late winter evening as Sanlaurento walked around a patio in a black, formal attire, with a green jacket with golden buttons.

“You’ll do great, stop worrying. You already did great in your dissertation.”

“But my dissertation was just me talking about International affairs.”

“One last viva, and you’ll be a lawyer.”

Julianus exhaled. “You’re right, one last viva. This ends today.”

“Did someone Come with you?”

“No.”

Their friend snorted. “You didn’t tell anyone about today, didn’t you?”

Feigning disinterest so the conversation could end, they looked over some handwritten diagrams.

Julianus sighed. “Actually, this time I did.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Do I have to apply to the Sea Palace? I know I said I wanted to, but I don’t know any more.”

“Of course, Cleo,” their mother said, “it’s the best academic institution around, you might have a chance. You lose nothing by trying”

“They were weird though, you know? Off. Like, they give me a bad feeling.”

Their mother no longer sounded patient when she spoke: “You’re going to have to let go of turning down opportunities at every chance you don’t like everyone in front of you, or everyone in front of you doesn’t automatically think you’re brilliant. Besides, you insisted, and this is a matter about your education, your safety and your future. You’re applying.”

Julianus tensed, curling their toes inside their shoes, trying to ball them like they would their hands. They couldn’t ball them into fists right now, that’d give them away. If they gave themselves away, their mother’s reaction would be worse. “It’s not— that’s not—”

They exhaled, giving up. “You’re right, Mama.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In their 27 years, Julianus had been called a lot of things.

Weird by their classmates, dense by their parents. Unnecessarily complicated, dramatic, attention seeking, stupid. All of them also by their parents who said things in annoyance and in anger without measuring any reaction, nor waiting for any explanation. Stupid, perhaps, was the funniest.

They never called them Julianus, only ‘Cleo’, too, to the point their mother often said they made a mistake in choosing their first name.

Their Cleo was a lot of things but never what they themself said they were. ‘Intelligence’ was arrogance, ‘mistakes’ stupidity, or worse, something unforgivable; a lack of consideration for everyone around them and the marking of their mother in their failure to raise a child who wanted to do anything with her.

Too loud, too quiet, too stiff, too needy, too this, too that, too weird, too feminine, too masculine, too much.

Academic settings were different. One of the few places they had some control over themself. Yes, their classmates might’ve thought them closed off, weird and even a bit of a “lunatic” when they were growing up, but their classmates also knew they were passionate about defending what they loved, including their friends. A willing ear to listen, offering food, advice and comfort to whomever asked, without thinking too much about it. Quick to rile up but never one to deny help. Their teachers and professors always knew they tried, that they wanted to learn, that they wanted to go to further, deeper horizons.

Their own self, learning and what they could do with that education was their constant ongoing project. Their poems and stories, a constant conversation with the world. Not self-centredness, not absent-mindedness.

Only twice they had been told in academic settings that they weren’t enough. One was in the Sea Palace. The scholars called them an histrionic, low-pedigree charming but insubstantial kid, with poorly honed magic and more enthusiasm than capacity. Others worked better, others could sit still for longer, others had more steady grades — not the valleys of those subjects which did not interest them, with good but unremarkable grading, versus the stellar records of those subjects which obsessed them needlessly. A nice attempt, but a definitive rejection.

The other was in that last Viva Voce in Firent. It hadn’t gone terribly, they had passed, but with meagre first level honours in comparison to their full honours approved dissertation. They were expecting to do worse, that was true. They weren’t expecting to have three examiners who did not let them finish a single explanation, one even laughing at their face for asking for a question to be clarified.

“If you keep this way, I doubt you will have it in you to be a good jurisconsult,” one of them had said.

Julianus had looked at them with icy, saccharine sweetness, eyes like daggers and making apologies they didn’t mean as they took their diploma. They left the room thinking what did they know? What did any of these people know about Julianus Cleopatra, who wasn’t born with the Surname Sanlaurento, but had chosen it anyway? Nothing. They knew nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Julianus had never been in many places they belonged.

The night was clear as The Ruby made its way through the waters in the night.

“What about you?”

“Yeah, Jay, tell us a story. All you do is work, kid. Grab a glass! Cut yourself some slack from those books, lest your vision becomes worse.”

Julianus couldn’t see why not. With a bright smile on their face, they grabbed a glass of beer, before joining the Crew that was lounging around on the deck, enjoying the night.

“Does it have to be something I’ve heard, or does it have to be an original?”

“Right! Saoirse did say you wrote.”

Julianus blinked. “Saoirse mentioned me?”

An echo of warm laughter rang between the crew. Someone patted their back. “You’ve got it bad for the Quartermaster, don’t you? But tell us your story.”

"My story?” They snorted. “Oh, you don’t want to listen to that.”

After taking a drink, they let their own play on words slide, and chose a story to tell. “You know how they say that those who are the most impertinent have the best chance. Well, this cabin boy risked it all for a venture in a ship from the northern seas, whose flag it was under was at war with an Empire. The cabin boy, well, we’ll call them boy, had been searching for a place to fulfil their ambitions, and saw in this ship the right chance. The kind of person who wished to be remarkable, and do what’s right

“So one day, the ship runs into an enemy ship. Goes the Captain and says: ‘If we fight them, this ship might be sunk and we might not live the night’. So goes the cabin boy, who had developed a fondness for this ship; the fondness one does when one loves a place, but the place does not love one back, and yet one clings to the nostalgia of the good things. The cabin boy did not realise this yet, so the cabin boy goes and says: ‘If I time it right, I could sink it.’

“Though often trifled with silencing commands, the cabin boy was intelligent and daring so the cabin boy repeated: ‘If I time it right I could sink it. Was this not why I trained all these years as a cabin boy?’

“The Captain said: ‘No, you are just a cabin boy’, but at the insistence of our protagonist, the Captain said: ‘If you destroy that ship, I will give you silver and likewise gold, here in this very sea, and I will give you my only daughter for you to marry, if you make a renowned Captain out of me—’”

The story was not a happy one. It was a story of betrayal and disappointed hopes. It finished with the cabin boy, who making himself one with the night, went to sink the enemy ship, under the very noses of the unsuspecting crew. Yet, when the cabin boy came back and demanded their acknowledgement, the Captain denied them. Though the cabin boy had no interest in claiming the bounty, the Captain had not expected them to live, but fearing the Cabin Boy would take the credit and disrupt the order of things, the Captain slew them, and the sea took them in.

Someone gasped with indignation. “And no one aided the cabin boy?”

“No.”

“Did the Captain kill them then?”

“That’s for you to decide.”

“So the cabin boy didn’t die? Or did they?”

“In a way. It’s less about physical death, though it can be about it.”

“Isn’t this the Raleigh story?”

“Of the Golden Vanity?” Said Sanlaurento with a smirk. “Perhaps, but everyone tells it differently.

“If you don’t make it as a law person, I say you become a writer.”

Julianus laughed. “Why not both?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The last time Julianus Sanlaurento had seen their parents was when they sailed off to an apprenticeship. There had been no grand goodbyes, no heartfelt words. They had all fought around a week before, and J.C. was not yet forgiven. It was, perhaps, one of the biggest fights they had had with them, and the memory of it, along with the cold shoulder they were given would cling to them for some more time.

Nothing was worse than the hypocrisy, though. Or the pity. Too much to everyone around them, a brilliant child when they weren’t in the room.

Before they left, their father had pulled them aside to tell them they were brilliant, and that they were proud. Jules had wanted to say thank you, and just thank you, from the bottom of his heart, but they couldn’t, not after last week. Instead, they said:

“You always say that, until I’m brilliant in a way which neither of you like even if you still let me do it. You’ll hate this, but I don’t exist comfortably anywhere, and perhaps, I’ll never exist comfortably here.”

“That’s not our fault, Cleo.”

“It’s not about whose fault is it— it’s— you know what, Dad? Nevermind.”

Their only comfort was Maricus, whom they clung to at night when they were alone in their quarters, with only their things, their cat and an acceptance letter as they realised they were completely, and utterly alone. They were alone, that was true, but at least, they were themself and they had had enough.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not wanting to try the Captain further after she dismissed them, Julianus retreated to the crew’s quarters. They sat against the wall nearest to their bed — if one could call a hammock a bed — picked up their notebook and began writing. They wanted to be left alone, so they buried their nose in their writing.

They didn’t expect seeing Saoirse when they looked up, leaning against a column as they watched them write.

“Raleigh again?”

“No, I’m leaving the fictional man rest for a minute or two.”

“Meredith told me you were staying.” At this, Jules stopped writing. “Said you were on permanent crew member probation until you defended your case and your position in Ethari. Then, if she didn’t change her mind, she’ll make you try as a permanent member of the crew, if you also haven’t changed your mind about it.”

Saoirse snorted. “If I was told I’d meet a human like you a year ago, I would’ve thought the person telling me such was drunk.”

Julianus raised an eyebrow at them, wanting to ask what that was supposed to mean, but Saoirse’s eyes were full of tenderness when they met them.

“Meredith also told me you asked. Did you because of me?”

“No,” Jules said as they closed their notebook, standing up to stretch their legs. “I don’t want to part from you, that’s true, I care… a lot about you, and I hope you care about me just the same. I don’t want to stop seeing you everyday, and I don’t want to stop kissing you everyday, and I don’t want to stop learning from and about you. I haven’t mastered the language yet, and there’s more of the Code to study, there’s so many things I haven’t done yet, but it’s not about you, it’s about me.”

Saoirse watched them as silence fell between them, Julianus’ dark eyes looking everywhere but at them. When they did look back at Saoirse's ice-blue ones, their eyes were clouded with tears. “This isn’t quite it, either, but do you know what’s like feeling you’re unwanted everywhere? Because who you are has a big red ‘wrong’ sign attached to it?

“I just don’t want to go. I see, I can see a future here, and I think I’ve been in enough places where I have been unwanted, or wanted wrong, for me to deserve to have a shot at the future I say I want to have. Not the future I was supposed to have by whomever thinks knows me better than I know me.”

Out of all the reactions Saoirse could’ve had, J.C. wasn’t expecting them to stop leaning on their column, and open their arms for them.

Their smile was just as tender as their eyes. “I know you enough to know that if I ask if you want a hug, you’ll say no, but in about five seconds you’ll change your mind.”

Jules’ half laughed, half sobbed. Unable to fight Saoirse’s logic they closed the distance between them, wrapping their arms around their waist, as they felt Saoirse’s arms sling under their arms to hold them close and safe between their arms. Like they were protecting them — from what? Neither of them knew; neither of them asked.

Instead, Jules was happy to bury their face against Saoirse’s chest, taking in the smell of them mixed with linen of their shirt. Saoirse’s cheek rested against the top of their head, only moving to plant a kiss there.

“Julie?” Saoirse said. “I know more about cages than you’d think.”

“I never said anything of—”

“You don’t have to say it for me to know. Before I was what I am now, I was in one, so to speak. Trapped, perhaps, is a better word. Cages all look different, but they all feel the same. There are no cages here, you deserve better than that.”

“I know, I know that now.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Only if you keep calling me ‘Julie’.”

“Were you never told not to make deals with strange Gods?”

As they spoke, Saoirse brushed their lips against theirs, themselves an offering for Julianus to chase. Chase them they did, pressing their lips against Saoirse’s over and over again.

“You’re not a strange God. Or rather, you’re not a stranger to me… You know? You don’t have to tell me what you were before, but I will say this: whomever decided to trap you, is or was a fucking coward.”

Saoirse laughed, the sound ringing around the room on its own accord. Soon enough, Jules found themself laughing too.

No, of course they didn’t want to go.

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #secrets of an ancient moon series #saoirse #jc sanlaurento #the janiverse #joirse #meredith #meredith's crew #yeah raleigh was real but we live in a world were the brits don't exist #dani's ocs

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drarry-fanfiction7 · 4 years

Text

True Love Touch - Part 3

Summary: “The curse was quite forward in its intent, Harry had to give it credit for that, not that it was a particularly good thing. Truly a great thing to be cursed with if one was painfully single and painfully not in love with anyone.”

Or, the one where Harry is cursed with a love spell and Draco doesn’t get any sleep.

Part 1 | Part 2

Words: 4.7k

Tag: @missnightingale1971 asked me to tag them when I updated. Hope you enjoy!

(can also be read on my ao3 @/invisible_slytherin)

________________________________________

Malfoy was laying down on the grass when Harry came outside before supper.

It had been hard to convince Ron and Hermione to let him leave the tower at a time when people were awake and moving around the castle. He had almost given up on it, Hermione had been adamant about having him stay in the common room at all costs and Ron had looked at him with such a concerned gaze that it had almost pinned Harry to the sofa.

He had had to bring up the fact that he hadn't been outside and gotten some fresh air in way too long, that he needed to leave the tower and that he was starting to feel like a prisoner. His friends still hesitated but ended up letting him go when he promised he would avoid all the busy corridors and would just go outside and avoid everyone.

Of course, in a weird turn of events, avoiding everyone didn't include Malfoy.

Harry walked up to Malfoy, casting a shadow over him and making him open his eyes with an annoyed expression.

"Get away from the Sun, Potter," he said.

"Hello to you too," Harry grinned and moved to sit next to him.

"Shouldn't you be in your confinement, princess?"

It wasn't the first time that Malfoy had made the princess joke. He liked to make fun of Harry by saying he was like the damsel in distress in every fairytale who was waiting for the love of her life to save her from eternal danger.

"I was let out of an hour or so."

"How daring."

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Harry asked, laying back on the ground.

"It's a beautiful day to enjoy some rays of sunshine."

"Sure, I believe that."

Malfoy sighed and Harry heard the rustling his robes made as he shifted next to him.

"I wanted to get away from the castle for a while. It was getting suffocating. Either Pansy and Blaise are hanging off my arm or someone is sending glares my way and I needed a time out."

"I know what you mean. I'm getting tired of looking at the same walls all the time."

"I would be too if I had to look at Gryffindor walls for more than five minutes."

"How do you even know what Gryffindor walls look like? You never saw them."

"I don't need to see them to know that they are horrible. Gryffindors aren't known for their impeccable taste." Malfoy turned his head to give him a pointed look.

"You're funny, Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes.

"One of my many qualities."

It was still weird to joke around with Malfoy. It was weird to talk to him so naturally and laugh with him. After everything that had happened between them over the years, having this normalcy with him that resembled the starts of friendship was weird. But it wasn't unwelcome and that was what surprised Harry the most.

"I asked my mother to send me some book from our library and I've been reading some," Malfoy started. "They're about curses. If you want, I can lend you the ones I'm not reading and you and your little friends can see if they have anything of interest."

There was still a condescending tone to Malfoy's voice in the way he was calling Ron and Hermione his 'little friends' but Harry knew that he was saying it in a more self-preservation way. He was already showing that he cared by asking his mother for the books, by reading them and offering to lend him. Harry knew that Malfoy still liked to hide beneath the mask of a perfectly unbothered expression, but what mattered was under that mask and Harry was learning how to see that.

"I think that'd be great. We haven't been making much progress," Harry said. "Thank you, Malfoy."

Malfoy shrugged, still determined not to show anything that he was feeling.

"I'll give them to you tonight," Malfoy said, getting up.

"How do you know you'll see me tonight?"

"Because we are terrible at staying in bed all night. And because you always seem to find me," another pointed look aimed at him. "So, find me, Potter."

He turned and left without saying anything else, without waiting for a confirmation that Harry would meet him that night. He didn't need a confirmation though, Harry knew without an inkling of doubt, that the moment Malfoy had said to find him he had made up his mind. Harry would find him that night and he knew that it wasn't only for the books.

***

McGonagall was in the common room when Harry got there. She was standing next to the table where Ron and Hermione were sitting, pointing at a book that was opened in front of them. Hermione was nodding along to what she was saying, jotting down notes on the parchment in front of her and Ron was attempting to read the book from the other side.

"Hello," he said, sitting down on the side of the table where there wasn't anyone.

"Potter, about time you appeared." McGonagall peered at him over her glasses. "I thought you were supposed to stay in the tower."

"I just went for a walk," he mumbled, feeling like he was 11 and being scolded by her again.

"Professor McGonagall thinks she found something to help you, Harry," Hermione said softly. "It's an old potion."

"Yes. I have found a potion in my researches that is known to break curses much like the one you've been carrying."

"That's great!" Harry said, eager to be able to go out whenever he felt like it and go back to eating in the Great Hall and all the normal things he had had to stop doing.

"I still need to run it through Professor Slughorn and then we have to wait until the potion is complete, but we have something," McGonagall reassured him.

Harry grinned and leaned back on his chair. After, a month of staying in the tower and not being able to touch anyone, he was more than ready to go back to normal, go back outside and go back to hugging his friends and being playful with his mates without fearing all the bruises that would come with any touch.

"I will tell you once things are ready. In the meantime," McGonagall looked pointedly at him. "Stay in the tower, Potter. I don't think you want to be hurt more than you need to."

She had a serious expression on her face and Harry wanted to be annoyed that she was ordering him to stay confined, but there were some lines of worry on her face that told him that part of the reason, probably the biggest part of the reason, she was doing all of this and telling him not to go anywhere was because she was worried about him and what could possibly happen if he went out and interacted with people.

"I will," he told her, purposefully ignoring that he would be leaving the tower in just a few hours to meet up with Malfoy.

Technically, he didn't need the books that Malfoy had gotten for him anymore, but he still had to meet up with him to let him know that. He couldn't just let Malfoy stranded and waiting for him the whole night with the books he had kindly gotten for Harry. Kindly. A word he never thought he would apply to Malfoy, but that was what Malfoy had been, kind enough to ask his mother for books for Harry.

McGonagall grabbed her book and left with one more pointed look in Harry's direction. Hermione reached out a hand and put it on the table near Harry's arm, not touching him but showing that if she could, she would give his arm a supportive squeeze. Soon, they wouldn't have to hold back.

"I'm glad things will go back to normal soon," she said.

"Yeah, I was getting tired of being here all the time. I even miss class."

Ron snorted and Hermione smiled.

"Now that's something I didn't expect to hear. Who would have thought that Harry Potter would miss not going to class."

"Miracles do happen," Harry shrugged.

"I personally don't think that I would ever miss classes," Ron grinned when Hermione glared at him. "I'm kidding, Mione, don't worry."

"You better. Classes are important and they give you knowledge that's going to be useful to you at some point in your life. Missing a whole year of school last year was more than enough."

"You're right," Ron reached out to move a curl from her face. "You're completely right."

"I think we don't need to research anything tonight then," Harry smiled, stretching his arms above his head.

"I would still like to look over some things before you take the potion, Harry. However, even if we don't do any research on this tonight, we still have to study. Not going to class makes it even more important to study on your own and I want to make sure that you know the things we've been learning before you go back and feel overwhelmed by everything."

Harry groaned, playing the part of the annoyed friend who didn't want to study. He didn't want to study, he'd rather spend his night doing anything else, but this was Hermione, who always worried about him and who was always there for him. Hermione who wanted to make sure that he knew enough about everything so that he wasn't lost when he went back to class. And he couldn't say no to Hermione after she did so much for him, not only now but over the years.

"We can start with Defence maybe?" Harry suggested, thinking that spending a night studying was worth it to thank Hermione for everything.

Ron rested his head on the table and groaned, not happy with the idea.

"Why, mate? Why?" He poked Harry's shoulder and turned to his book, neither of them remembering the curse for a second.

***

Harry walked down the stairs of the castle, the cold touching his skin through the clothes. His fingers were freezing where they were holding the Marauders' map in front of him, his eyes following the line to the name Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy was on the first floor and Harry had a feeling that he had chosen that place just to be an inconvenience and make Harry climb down all the stairs from the tower. It seemed like the kind of thing that Malfoy would do, make sure that Harry knew that they weren't friends and that he wouldn't make his life easy at all.

He hurried down the stairs, not wanting to make Malfoy wait too much in fear that the other boy would think he wasn't going to show up. When Harry hopped down the last step, he mumbled the words to erase the map from the parchment and closed it, putting it inside his pocket.

Malfoy was sitting on the floor at the end of the corridor, half-hidden in the shadows. Harry walked slowly up to him, steps careful and silent as not to be heard. He still didn't know how last time Malfoy had been able to know he was there when he was being careful.

Harry hadn't given up on startling him, though.

This time, he was even more careful with his steps. He walked on the tip of his toes and held his breath for as long as he could, his whole body tense with the effort to make no noise at all.

His efforts were rewarded when Malfoy didn't look up or make any remarks. If he had noticed Harry, he would have said something.

Harry bent down slightly, holding the cloak close to him as not to let it touch Malfoy in any way, and put his face close to Malfoy's ear. Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed and, before he could turn to look, Harry intervened.

"Hello, Malfoy," he whispered.

Malfoy jumped, eyes widening in surprise and a squeal leaving his throat. Harry pushed the cloak off of himself and laughed louder than he should have considering it was the middle of the night and they weren't supposed to be out of their common rooms.

"You're not funny, Potter," Malfoy grumbled, a glare set on Harry.

He dusted off his pants and sat back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest to make sure Harry knew he was mad at him. Harry sat next to him, still chuckling, and put the cloak on the floor next to him.

"It was pretty funny."

"Annoying. That's what it was."

Harry grinned at him and noticed the three books that were stacked on a pile on Malfoy's other side. He had actually brought them then. Malfoy had actually asked his mother for books so that he could help Harry out and he was bringing them to him. Harry had believed when he said he would be bringing them, but after everything that had happened between them through the years, it was good to have in front of him the confirmation of how much Malfoy had changed.

"Malfoy," he started. "I don't think I will need the books."

Malfoy frowned and Harry took a moment to think that maybe that hadn't been the best way to start the conversation. Malfoy was doing something nice for him and Harry was telling him that he wouldn't need it.

"I mean," he hurried to say, desperate to make sure that Malfoy didn't misunderstand how grateful and happy Harry was that he was willing to help out. "McGonagall was in the common room when I came inside a few hours ago. They found a way to end the curse."

"Oh," Draco breathed out. "I'm glad then. That they found something."

"Thank you for helping me, though," Harry said.

"I didn't exactly help," Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but you were going to," he shrugged. "And, anyway, you did help. You kept me company when I couldn't sleep."

"Because neither of us knows how to fall asleep at night and you always seem to find me."

"Why are you trying to find justifications for all of it?"

Malfoy stayed in silence and Harry turned his face to look at him. His expression was closed off yet pensive. He seemed to be thinking about Harry's question and how to answer it, which was more than Harry thought he would do. He had thought that Malfoy would simply brush it off and make a snarky comment, but it wasn't happening.

"I think," Malfoy started. "I think that I'm scared."

Harry blinked, startled at the candid admission. He hadn't expected Malfoy to be so truthful with him, to open up in that way and say something that was private and personal. Malfoy opening up to Harry seemed like an impossibility, implausible. But here they were, in a dark corridor, in the middle of the night and Malfoy was telling Harry that he was scared.

"Scared of what?" Harry's voice was soft, softer than he had ever used when talking to Malfoy, softer than he had ever thought he would use with Malfoy.

"Scared that it will make me vulnerable," Malfoy hesitated, but he had already started talking so there was no going back. "If I hide everything I'm thinking and feeling, then it will be easier to pretend those things were never there and it will be harder to get hurt."

"I don't want you to hide from me."

"Sometimes hiding is just easier. And safer."

And Malfoy was right. Hiding was easier and safer, but that didn't mean it was the best option. It didn't mean there wasn't something amazing about opening up to someone and letting them know what's inside of you. Harry had some trouble doing it too, but something about this Malfoy that was sitting next to him and that had been talking to him for weeks, made him want to hear everything he had to say and open up in return.

"I think that opening up is hard, but sometimes it's worth it. Sometimes letting yourself be known and letting other people know you is the best thing."

"I do think I want to talk," Malfoy said, his eyes meeting Harry's. "But my first reflex will always be to keep things inside."

"Maybe it's time to change that."

"Maybe it is."

There was a beat of silence. Malfoy was looking at Harry, his eyes travelling all over his face, trying to assess if telling Harry what he had been keeping inside was the best decision to make. Harry tried to keep his expression as open as possible, to keep his eyes on Malfoy and let him know that he wouldn't judge him, that he would be there to listen to what he had to say.

Malfoy licked his lips and nodded once to himself before starting, "The truth is that I was very curious at first. You had disappeared from the castle and no one seemed to know exactly why, and then I saw you that first night and I was even more curious. Because why would you be hiding away during the day and leaving all your adoring fans heartbroken but then come out in the middle of the night."

Harry rolled his eyes at the 'adoring fans' comment but didn't interrupt. He figured that talking this openly about himself was already taking a toll on Malfoy, he wouldn't forbid him from making any snide comments.

"And then I found out what was wrong with you. One of the things that's wrong with you, anyway," he smiled teasingly. "And I guess, I don't know. I was just worried. And I did want to help you but I didn't know how and that pained me."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Harry shook his head, shifting so he was sitting closer to Malfoy. "No one knew how to help me. It was just a shit situation."

"I did the only thing I could do," Malfoy ignored him. "I wrote to my mother, hoping that she had some answers. She comes from an old family, maybe she knew something and, if she didn't, I asked for any books that she thought might help."

Harry felt warm. Every word that Malfoy said was going directly into his heart and exploding into tiny flames, setting him on fire from the inside out. He turned so he was looking directly at Malfoy and smiled at him.

"Thank you," he stared directly into Malfoy's eyes, hoping to convey everything he was feeling into that one stare. "It means a lot to me that you care."

Malfoy licked his lips and averted his eyes for a second, before turning them back to Harry, a determined flicker in them.

"I do care. I never thought I would, but I do care about you, Potter… Harry. I do care."

Harry gulped, his eyes never straying from Malfoy and his breath faltering in his throat. He wanted to say something, make sure that Malfoy knew that everything he was saying meant the world to Harry, make sure Malfoy knew that Harry cared about him too.

He wasn't sure how to articulate it, though. He didn't know how to put into words everything he wanted to say and everything he wanted Malfoy to know. He had never been quite good with words and with saying what he meant, not like Malfoy deserved him to be.

Malfoy was looking apprehensively at him and Harry was being stupid. He couldn't stay silent and let Malfoy worry that he had said something wrong, he couldn't let him feel like that after the other boy had been so honest with him. He had to say something, do something.

Harry smiled at him. A reassurance in itself but not enough. Never enough.

He shuffled even closer and Malfoy stared down at the diminishing space between them, the furrow between his eyebrows was the only thing that showed his confusion. Harry grinned and moved his hand, touching Malfoy's sleeve with his index finger.

"You know what I would do if I wasn't cursed?" Harry asked at last.

Malfoy shook his head.

"I would touch you. That's the thing I want to do the most. I would touch without fear of bruising my fingers. And I would kiss you without thinking that it would bruise my lips," he said. "I don't think I would mind a few bruises, to be completely honest."

"Don't be an idiot, Potter. You aren't getting injured when you don't have to."

"I think I do have to." His finger went walked along Malfoy's arm, not quite touching it, but climbing the length of the large sleeve. "I've been injured before because of this curse and it was just annoying. Getting injured after I touch you… That would be completely worth it."

"You're completely out of your mind," Malfoy shook his head, but there was laughter in his eyes and Harry knew he wouldn't be pushed away.

Harry met his eyes and smiled at him before finally, finally, letting his finger touch skin. His placed the pad of his index on the skin where Malfoy's shoulder met his neck and felt his breath get stuck in his throat. It had been so long since he had freely touched anyone, he felt like his brain was going to snap if he didn't continue feeling skin on his.

He rested his whole hand on Malfoy's shoulder and shifted closer, felt his cheek warming up with Malfoy's breathing. He turned his head slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Malfoy's eyes were dark silver in the shadowy corridor, intense as they stayed connected to Harry's.

"Draco, I'm going to kiss you now."

"Do it, Potter."

And Harry did. He took on the challenge whispered against his lips and sighed when they met Malfoy's. It was everything he had been waiting for, everything he had wanted. It was all the touches he had been missing, it was all the intensity of life he had missed brought back to him. Malfoy was soft under him and Harry didn't think of the curse as he touched him everywhere he could. As he touches his back and his arms and his neck. He didn't think of anything except Malfoy, Draco, kissing him and never stopping.

Malfoy's hands had been on his lap the whole time, he had kept them there as he kissed Harry back. But now he raised them, he clutched at harry's robes with them at first, bringing him closer and closer until there was practically no space between them. When he moved again, he held the back of Harry's neck with his right hand and kissed him even harder.

And then it ended. The kiss stopped and Malfoy jumped away from Harry, leaving him dazed and wondering what had happened, how everything had shattered so quickly.

"I know you said you didn't mind the bruises but… I just held your neck. That must have been painful."

"What?"

"Your neck. I touched your neck."

Harry blinked, then raised his hand to touch his neck and shook his head at Malfoy.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

Malfoy didn't seem to believe him, so he patted the floor next to himself.

"Come back here, Draco."

Draco seemed thorn between worrying that he had hurt Harry and wanting to go back to what they had been doing before. Harry hoped that he chose the second option.

He sighed and sat back down next to Harry, keeping his hands firmly on his lap again.

"Let me see," he said. "Your neck. Let me see how it looks."

"Draco, come on."

Harry didn't want to scare him away. He didn't want Draco to see the bruise and decide that he wouldn't touch Harry again until the curse was removed. He didn't want that. He had been telling the truth when he had said that getting a few bruises would be worth it if he got to touch Draco and be touched by him.

"Stop being stubborn and let me see it, Potter."

Harry sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get away from it and convince Draco to let it go. So, he turned his head to the right and let Draco look over the left side of his neck, waiting impatiently for him to finish his examination.

"How long do the bruises take to appear?"

Harry looked at Draco's frown from the corner of his eye and shrugged.

"A few seconds usually, a minute at most."

Draco's frown deepened and he grabbed his wand from his pocket. He cast a Lumos and looked at Harry's neck once more.

"Harry," Draco breathed out, his hand reaching out but not quite touching Harry's neck. "There's nothing."

"What?"

"There's nothing," Malfoy rushed out. "No bruise. No redness. Absolutely nothing."

Harry looked at him confused. Then stared down at his hands, at his fingers and palms that had touched Malfoy's skin and that should be black and blue but that weren't.

"I don't understand," he mumbled.

"Do you think it lifted on its own?" Malfoy asked.

Harry didn't know. No one had said it would, but then again, no one had known a whole lot about it in the first place. Maybe it had lifted on its own. Maybe it had been a temporary thing.

"My shoulder," he said suddenly, startling Malfoy as he started to shrug off his robes and jumper.

He turned his head to look at the place where Ron had poked him earlier than evening and, sure enough, there was a bruise in the exact same place.

"I-" he pointed at the bruise. "This was this evening. It couldn't have lifted in hours. Could it?"

"I don't know. But what's the other alternative?"

From his voice, from the rushed words and flushed cheeks, Harry knew that Malfoy was thinking of the same alternative that he was. The one that would explain why his touch didn't leave any bruises on Harry while Ron's touch had. They were thinking of the same thing, but it seemed impossible. It couldn't be.

"Do you think that…?" Harry asked, voice soft and unable to finish his thought.

"It can't be," Draco's voice was even lower, disbelief in every aspect of it.

"Would it be that bad? If it were true?"

Draco stared at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed, put his sleeves over his hands and sighed.

"It wouldn't be bad." He still wouldn't meet Harry's eyes. "But it doesn't seem like it could be true."

Harry shook his head,d told himself that he was brave enough to do and say what they both needed to be laid out in front of them and moved his hand so it was resting on Draco's thigh.

"It does seem that way, but… The evidence is there, isn't it?"

Harry's hand moved up, stopped next to Draco's hand and hesitated before holding it in his own.

"And it's not like we don't want it," he teased, trying to lift the tension.

Draco laughed. A small, breathy sound. Still unsure. But his hand squeezed Harry's and there was hope all around. Hope for the two of them.

"I guess you're right. Shocking as it is."

"It does happen sometimes." Harry smiled and his other hand came up to touch Draco's face, unafraid now. "You're just thinking too much."

"I do tend to do that," Draco nodded, but his eyes were back on Harry's lips Harry knew that they both agreed that conversation was overrated.

Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the month he had spent without touching anyone or if it was just because this was Draco, but every touch seemed bigger than it was, fuller and deeper. Every touch seemed to stroke his heart and make his breath hitch.

The curse didn't seem like a burden anymore. It would be lifted soon and for now, Harry was buzzing with the feeling of Draco's skin against his own. Despite the lonely month he had spent, Harry felt like he had ended up winning in the end. Winning more than he had ever asked for.

The End

___________________________________________

So this is it, the end of the story I wrote on a whim. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Shameless plug, but I made a drarry playlist while I was procrastinating if you want to listen it's on Spotify

Masterlist

#drarry #fanfic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #harry x draco #Harry Potter #howgarts 8th year #soulmates #yearning

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cromulentbookreview · 4 years

Text

I See What You Did There

What’s two plus two?

Huh? What? What’s happening?

What’s two plus two?

Oh, shit, right, I have a book review blog, don’t I? I mean, things have been a bit hectic these past few months and I’m also trying to be a real writer...

What’s two plus two?

Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t neglect my tumblr, even if nobody reads it. And come on, computer, it’s not like I’ve been in a coma for four years, two plus two is clearly five and we all love Big Brother, OK? Gah.

Uhhh...And by that, I mean: Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir!

Dr. Ryland Grace wakes up in a spaceship with no memory of how or why he’s there. He’s a junior high school science teacher, what the hell is he doing on a spaceship? Also, the other two astronauts are dead. Like, really dead. So far as how things are going for Dr. Grace right now, I’ll let Pete Campbell give you a hint:

Slowly, veeeery slowly, Grace’s memory starts to come back to him: he’s on a mission to save the Earth. There’s this nasty space bacteria-thingy called Astrophage that’s dimming the light of Mr. Burns’s archnemesis: the Sun.

There’s a lot of science involved, but Weir explains, in great detail, just how Astrophage dims the Sun and why that’s really, really, really, really bad for the Earth. Like, apocalyptic-bad. Billions will die bad. Famine, disease, war, rocks fall, everyone dies and freezes to death bad. Only not right away. Over the course of several years. So everyone will die, but they’ll get to do it real slowly.

Yay?

Like so, but it ends with everybody dead and the Earth being rendered uninhabitable. All of Grace’s wee little students will grow up watching their Earth slowly die. Unless Project Hail Mary finds a solution. And there seems to be a solution out there - Tau Ceti seems to be the only star not infected with Astrophage. Why? How? What? So this all powerful woman called Stratt, who has been given authority by just about everyone (how? Reasons. Don’t ask questions) yanks Grace out of his classroom - first to study Astrophage, and then, somehow, he can’t remember exactly, roped him into going on a dozen-light-year journey to Tau Ceti with the crew of the Hail Mary.

Only the rest of the crew is dead. Something went wrong while they were in a coma during their four-year space voyage. Grace is alone.

Inside the Hail Mary.

Full of a dude called Grace.

I see what you did there, Weir. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I mean, you don’t even have to be Catholic to see what you did there.

Anyway, long-winded flashbacks and lots of science ensues. I struggled with the first quarter of the book - not for any particular reason other than I started reading this book in the latter half of 2020 and I was having a hell of a time concentrating on...well, everything. Remember 2020? Yeah, it wasn’t great. I mean, I’d need a lot of “not great, Bob!” gifs to describe just how bad those last few months of 2020 were.

And then I thought 2021 would be better. Ahahaha we barely made it six days. Seriously, everything is terrible and how do I even concentrate on a dumb book blog let alone a book all about science and the Earth slowly dying because the sun is dimming and -

Soon enough, however, Grace spots something on the Hail Mary’s radar. It’s...another spaceship? All the way out by Tau Ceti? At first, Grace thinks maybe its another ship from Earth, like a backup plan, that’d make sense, right? Only it’s not.

Who could it be?

Aliens?

Yeah, it’s aliens.

Our friend Grace gets to be the dude to make first contact with the sentient, spider-like creatures of the first planet in the system 40 Eridani. Turns out 40 Eridani is also infected with Astrophage, which is causing all sorts of problems for the Eridians, and their ship just happened to be around Tau Ceti at the exact same time as the Hail Mary. Crazy, right? Anyway, after the initial first contact and the long, drawn-out process of learning to communicate with one another (with no help from Amy Adams or Jeremy Renner), Grace and the lone Eridian, whom Grace christens Rocky, team up to save their respective worlds.

Science and plenty of flashbacks ensue.

I’m not a scientist - well, I have a master’s degree in library and information science, which, I guess, is a science? I mean, uh...I could tell you where all the sciency books are in the library. 500s if you’re using Dewey, and if you’re using Library of Congress, it will depend on what you’re looking for - you’ll want to start with Q for general sciences, QA for math books, QB and QC for astronomy and physics, QE, GC, GB, QC, TN for earth sciences, QD, TN, TP, and TR for chemical sciences, GE and bits of GF, QE, QH, QC, and TD for environmental sciences, QH, QK, QL, QM, QP, and QR for life sciences, QA75-76.9, TK5101-TK6720, TK7800-TK7895, and Q334-Q390 for computer sciences, telecommunication and artificial intelligence, Q, R, S, and T for the history of sciences and if you’re looking for bibliographies and finding aids for topics in the sciences, look under Z.

You know. Science.

OK, so I may not be a scientist. I may be bad at math because numbers somehow magically switch themselves around on paper whenever I look at them. Why? Because my brain sucks, that’s why. I may have spent most of my chemistry classes reading YA books under my desk (worth it!). I may have only passed high school physics by cheating off a girl younger than I was, but hey, the joke was on me: my high school physics teacher wasn’t even qualified to teach physics.

Gotta love rural public schools.

My point is, while the science may be lost on me and my brain which is full mostly of Simpsons quotes rather than actual knowledge, I do loves me a fun story where Science (with a capital S) saves the day. And, make no mistake, this book is fun. You might get a bit bogged down by the science, but once you get past it, this is a highly enjoyable story of one dangerously unqualified guy desperately trying to save the world with his new BFF, alien spider guy who speaks in musical notes. It’s up to them and them alone. Good luck, guys! Don’t forget that billions upon billions of lives depend on you. No pressure.

Seriously, if you loved The Martian, you’ll love Project Hail Mary. They’re similar, but Hail Mary is on a much larger scale than The Martian - there’s a lot more at stake in the hands of one guy. Plus: aliens!

Without spoiling anything, I’ll just say I would have loved more from the ending. I would’ve loved an epilogue from some of the other character’s perspectives or something. I mean, I could even go with a sequel! Maybe something where Erid and Earth are finally able to communicate? There’s a lot of potential for short stories or novellas set in the same world as Project Hail Mary - there’s got to be bonus material there and I want it. More, please? That’d be nice. I’d definitely read it. So... Hop to it, Weir!

One last complaint: Grace doesn’t swear. Like, at all. Meanwhile, Mark Watney is over here like

Come on, Grace, would it kill you to say “fuck” or “shit” every now and again? I mean, I sipped coffee that was too hot and let out a bunch of words that’d make a 19th century whaler blush. Geez.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Fans of The Martian, science-y people, people who enjoy a heavy dose of science in their sci-fi, people who just want a fun story

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: People with no mind for science, people who are against fun, anyone who doesn’t like sci-fi, aliens, fun, etc.

RATING: 4/5

ALIEN RATING:

RELEASE DATE: May 4, 2021 (HEY! Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there, too, Ballantine Books!)

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR SPINOFFS / SEQUELS / BONUS MATERIAL OF ANY KIND: Olympus Mons.

DID I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE?

#project hail mary #andy weir #fiction #book review #science fiction #hard science fiction #sff #sci-fi #tau ceti #rocky #adrian #hail mary #ryland grace #apocalyptic fiction #first contact #aliens #global dimming #astrophage

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a-decoy-soul · 4 years

Text

You Cannot Cheat Death When It Comes Knocking At Your Door

(Yandere Satan fic)

Chapter 1: A Body Has Been Discovered

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Spoken words are far stronger than something as silly as ancestry, and I believe as if our blood calls out to each other, love. So, shall we unite?”

~~~~~~~

“I’ve been thinking...If all of us were in a horror movie, in what order do you think we’d be killed?”

“Though I don’t support your friendly relations with these demons, I hope you have safe travels, Solomon.” A grumble and a pout was all the small angel responded with, a loyal dog watching as his human left to make friends with the neighbors cat.

“Now, Luke, you’ve gotten close to Lucifer and his brothers, there’s no shame in it.” A sweet laugh, as smooth as honey, left the brunette’s lips as he struggled once more to convince the smaller the kindness demons have to offer.

Solomon was used to this, Luke time and time again warning him the dangers of dealing with the devil, but he had experience and 72 demons on his side. If there was any human that could handle themselves against a demon it was him. Though as much as he loved having so much power, he had to admit, it wasn’t enough.

Perhaps his need for power was insatiable, or he had something dark in mind, no one truly knew what he was planning, or how far he’d go to get what he wanted. In fact, he had plans for making more pacts that day, no matter what he had to do.

“I assure you, I’ll be fine, Luke. You have no need for worry, I know how to work with demons, you should know this by now. I should get going, I have a feeling something big is about to happen.”

With a quick text to Asmodeus, letting the demon know what he was doing in case things went south and he had to summon him for help, the sorcerer walked out of Purgatory Hall.

Somewhere in the Devildom, a plan was set into motion, a smirk in a dark room and eyes glistening in the dark with corrupt plans and carnal desires.

After the human left to bargain with the damned, a lesser heavenly body made its way to the door. Raven hair slightly messy, yet still proper, ocean eyes baring a look of infatuation for all to see. As his slightly gloved hand made its way to the handle, he was stopped in his tracks.

“Orion, where are you going?” A voice called out to him from down the dorm hall, with a slight blush on his cheeks he turned to see Luke walking with Simeon back to their own dorm room.

The starry eyed angel looked at the others, knowing he’d been caught in the act of sneaking to the House of Lamentation, a habit he’d made after developing a soft spot for a certain blonde that resided there.

“Oh, Solomon wasn’t answering any texts, so I was going to the House of Lamentation to check on him, you know, angelic duties.” He was always an awful liar, whether it be his angel blood or his obvious body language, he was transparent.

“He just left, I doubt he’ll be doing any texting while he’s walking and he never actually said which demon he was trying to pact.” Simeon knew why the other wanted to leave, he’d push aside the fib for now and simply speak to him about it when he returned. “Just tell Satan and the others that I said ‘Hello’.”

At the mention of the demon with the golden hair, he turned away, hiding just how his pale, freckled skin burned at his name. Orion could daydream for eons about that man if he had the time, however he only had a year here in the Devildom and while he’d gotten close to him, he still yearned for something more. Something more than speaking about customs from their separate worlds, chatting about astronomy and how beautiful the unknown is, more than sitting in silence as they read together.

Perhaps he was a bit too conspicuous with his emotions, how the other angels could see through him so easily, maybe he’d work on that during his stay.

“R-Right, I’ll let them know.” He used a few fingers to sweep his bangs to the side out of embarrassment, before moving his hand once more to the doorknob, yet again to be interrupted.

He looked down to see Luke’s hand grabbing his arm, a wary look in his eyes paired with a matching frown, his facial expression dead serious.

“Never trust a demon.”

Something the fair haired angel said more often than not to all he crossed, yet this time, it seemed to speak differently, causing Orion to freeze in his tracks as he processed why this same sentence sounded so foreboding

It wasn’t until a sigh was heard that the trance between the two angels broke. “Now Luke, I really hoped you would have gained a bit more confidence in the brothers after all the things they’ve done for you. You can trust them, they may be demons, but it doesn’t mean they’re vicious.”

With a childish huff breaking the gravity of his words, he walked off with Simeon, both probably speaking a farewell that Orion didn’t hear, his mind elsewhere.

~~~~~~~

“You’d be first, Levi.”

“WHAAAAT?!”

“Ah, hang on...I figured if I’m in my room the whole time as usual, I’d be able to stay undetected. But in reality, it could actually make it easier for them to find me, huh! I see…”

As he arrived at the House of Lamentation, walking in through the doors, he still couldn’t shake Luke’s warning. Making his way through the halls, he checked his D.D.D for any responses from the demon that clouded his mind and filled his thoughts. As he walked, he looked around, a bit curiously, it was way too quiet for the House of Lamentation, almost eerie.

Just as he was beginning to question the silence, a voice pierced the quiet and he felt a foot step on the celestial cape that trailed behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’s a low rank angel like you wonderin’ around here for? If you’re lookin’ for Satan, he isn’t in his room, said he had to return a few books.”

Mammon, Avatar of Greed and the only one annoying and disrespectful enough to step on a holy garment with shoes on just to be a nuisance. Orion pulled his cape from underneath the other’s shoes giving an irritated huff.

“Thank you for informing me, now if you don’t mind I’ll wait for him in the planetarium.” He spoke with a smile, sloppily hiding the slight aggravation that came from the other staining the silk that flowed from his shoulders to the floor. Then ignoring him as he turned and walked towards the planetarium, where he usually found himself drawn to, it was calming there.

“H-Hey! You listen here, ya can’t be walkin around like you live here! You’re gonna get in trouble!”

The angel simply kept walking, knowing he tended to get in more trouble if Mammon was within 5 feet of him. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to get thrown into any of his antics today.

“Whatever, angels are still as stubborn and full of themselves as i left.” The demon mumbled to himself as he walked off, taking his schemes elsewhere.

In the planetarium he sat, sighing at his D.D.D. and looking up at the beautiful decor as he waited patiently. He wished Purgatory Hall had this, a place to remind him of where he came from, a place that brought him comfort and peace, the night sky had always soothed his weary soul.

It had only been an hour when he decided maybe he should take a slight nap as he waited, hoping that he wasn’t forgotten about, and admittedly surprised he hadn’t been bothered. As he leaned back in the rosewater velvet chairs and closed his eyes, he heard a silky voice break through his slightly confident exterior, replacing it with an embarrassed and sloppy appearance.

“I figured you’d be up here, I understand if my errands made waiting for me a bit...tiresome.”

There he was in all of his glory, a demon in an angel's body, the most heavenly thing the raven haired boy has seen in hell.

His hair a halo around his head, glowing golden in the light, amber radiating from him brighter than Sirius itself as it flowed through soft wellkept locks. Each strand was a piece of sunshine as it fell in frame with his face, his bangs caressing his skin ever so slightly as they kissed his face. Orion could imagine how it felt to run his fingers through the honey that flowed from his head, perhaps it felt like satin to the touch, gracing his senses each moment.

Looking into his eyes was like staring face to face with a nebula. A sense of both fear and awe washed over as sea green waves pulled the angel under, and as the other filled his lungs, he felt a calm saturate him. The northern lights in his the blonde’s eyes were a powerful force, showing emotions and desires despite the strong mask he wore.

Orion sat up and did his best to act like he couldn’t feel the crimson burn his freckles. “No, no. You’re fine, I just figured I’d rest my eyes a bit while I waited and hope that none of your brothers bother me.”

“I’m surprised you weren’t interrupted, my family doesn’t exactly know the meaning of peace and quiet. Though I suppose this is a good place to find serenity. Perhaps we should read here instead.”

The angel smiled at Satan, his eyes glowing with the look of adoration. “That’d be great.”

After making a trip to the demon’s room, they returned with a few books, the dim light in the planetarium giving a soothing vibe, perfect for reading or simply gazing at the space themed decorations hanging from the ceiling. Taking a seat, they opened their books, nothing but the sound of turning pages and the water from the fountain maintaining such a zen atmosphere.

Each time they accompanied each other, it seemed like Satan was the only one who could concentrate on the task at hand. Orion was always sneaking glances at the other, wondering what he was thinking about, what his hopes and dreams were, what he would do with all the knowledge he’d stored in his head over the years. A demon who knows more than any human alive, and yet all he craves is more knowledge, though the angel supposed that anyone who had such great intelligence would long for more. The unknown brings out curiosity and draws in all who seek to attain its secrets like a siren song, perhaps that’s why Orion’s eyes couldn’t help but to wander back to this demon.

Eventually he would focus on the words in front of him, knowing there would be discussion about it afterwards, it was sort of what the humans called a book club, but with only the two reading their own preferred texts. Slowly the angel’s mind was captivated by the book in his hands, completely ignoring the existence of time itself, all that mattered was the hardcover before him, it’s pages bearing information about the Devildom night sky and it’s wonders. Lost amongst it’s celestial objects, time slipped away from him.

~~~~~~~

“So I’d be the first one to get killed, but people won’t find out right away.”

“Levi’s new game shoulda got here by now, he said he wanted to play it with me, but I haven’t got a text from him. He’s been kinda quiet all day hasn’t he?” The Avatar of Greed spoke to himself, walking to his younger brother’s room with an annoyed huff.

“Probably started playin’ it without me that’s what he’s doin’.” As he reached the other’s room, he heard what sounded like game menu music, opening the door with irritation, he was greeted with a sight not too out of the ordinary.

Levi was in Henry’s tank, such an oddly large tank for such a small fish, he never understood it until he started getting in and talking to the goldfish. Being a demon with the build and even features of a sea serpent, he could stay underwater for a while and loved every second of it, especially if they were being spent with Henry. Well, Henry 2.0.

“Get outta the tank Levi, I thought we were s’posed to be playing Bust Sisters Ultra! How am I gonna kick your butt while you’re goofin’ off with Henry?”

No answer, no sound, no movement.

“Levi? Ignorin’ me isn’t gonna make me leave, I thought you were excited about this?”

The second born walked away from the door and closer to the tank. That’s when he realized something, Levi wasn’t even blinking, his eyes frozen in a state of panic.

Levi was dead.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t scream for nothing wished to come out, the shock of seeing another one of his siblings unmoving hitting him like a freight train. His brain was pushing through slowly, trying to think of what he should do, he had to do something. Grab Lucifer? He’d know what to do, right? No, he had to get Levi out of there, maybe, just maybe, he still had some life in him.

How was he going to get in? How did Levi even get in? He looked around, his eyes watering up and his vision getting blurry, the world itself seeming to come to a sudden halt, yet he felt like he could see everything turning. As the waterworks started, salty rain dripping from sapphire eyes, clouding his vision as he pressed himself up against the glass. He racked his brain, thinking as hard as he could of how to get in, when he looked at his hands, pressed against the glass. He had to break it, it’d flood the house, but that didn’t matter now, what mattered was Levi.

The snowy haired demon started to shake, shifting his demon form and slamming his fist on the glass, tears continuing to slowly spill as he did his best to break the barrier between him and his brother’s body. First Lilith and now Levi, losing siblings took its toll on the demon, after the death of his sister, never did he think he’d feel such pain again.

With a scream and flash of light, the tank cracked, the water doing the rest of the work, breaking the glass and flooding the room out into the hall. Soaked but determined, Mammon pulled his brother from the skeleton of a tank and held him close, he was truly too late.

Annoyed by the ruckus, Lucifer stormed down the hall, his boots making an audible splash on the water soaked carpet. What in the three realms happened here? A thunderous yell boiled in his chest, waiting to be unleashed on whichever one of his foolish brothers decided to flood the entire hall.

He threw open the door, but stopped in seconds, the sight in front of him shaking him to his very core. Mammon looking up at him, tears falling like rain, and a look in his eyes that he hadn’t seen in millennia. He was genuinely broken, and wrapped in his arms in wings was none other than Levi, his body unresponsive.

Lucifer had lost another one, another one of his younger siblings that he’d done everything he could to protect, cold and dead. There was no yell that came from the eldest brother, he simply trembled like a child, walking to view the body of his lifeless brother. He did his best to stay strong, holding himself together for Mammon, for when the others come in, he has to be there for them.

Everyone had heard the glass crack, that wasn’t something uncommon, they heard the door slam open, that happened all the time. It was the silence after that scared them. Usually Lucifer would let out a loud, “MAMMMOOOOON!” or whomever was responsible would let out a whine at the sight of his anger. But utter silence, that was something that never happened in the House of Lamentation.

Slowly, everyone filed down to the hall, the sound of splashing echoing as they followed the water to Levi’s room, all eyes noticing their brother lying stiff, and the strongest of them all hanging on by a thread.

Each brother having a different reaction, all seeing the same scene and reliving past trauma, but all dealing with it so uniquely. It was something the angel wished he never witnessed.

Beelzebub falling beside Mammon, tears filling his eyes as he denied the other’s death, hoping with every fiber in his body that this was all a silly prank. “Levi wake up...this isn’t funny, you and Mammon really fooled us. Now stop this stupid prank, you know this isn’t funny!” He grabbed the third born’s body from his older brother, the other letting him, putting a hand on his shoulder with a defeated look in his eyes.

“He’s gone Beel, this isn’t a joke, I wish it was. I wish it was all a joke but he’s gone.”

The glutton continued to shake his head, crying as he held his brother close, his grip gentle and soft despite his strength. In fact it looked as if he was cradling the corpse like a sleeping child, mumbles mixed with hiccups as he tried to keep quiet, as if not to wake him.

Asmodeus could sense everyone’s desires in the room, his powers becoming the thing that made him the weakest in such a dark situation. The pain, the agony, the craving for justice and the rising anger and depression filled the tank lit room like smoke. There was one feeling that kept him from being overwhelmed, simply because it stood out from them all. Disgust and pride, a strong desire for the angel that was frozen in shock near the doorframe. His eyes followed this desire, but as he started, the feeling was gone. No, as if he were cut off, perhaps the perpetrator was in this room, lacing themself with a temporary magic, meaning that they possessed power greater than he did. Strange.

The blonde’s reaction was perhaps the most calm out of all them, then again, he was always well known for his masked smile. But it seemed even he was shedding tears over the loss of his brother, struggling to keep up the facade he wore, turning his head to avert eyes from anyone as well as the body in his brother’s arms.

Belphegor was the first to break, seeing his twin so upset and sharing his pain, as well as having flashbacks to his little sister arrow ridden, he couldn’t take it. Turning to his eldest brother, he began to shout, “How could you let this happen! You’re supposed to protect us! You lost Lilith and now Levi is murdered in our own home! Who’s to say we won’t all be killed, Lucifer? And you’re powerless and weak just like always!”

The room got silent.

Orion felt an unease washing over, he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t see this. Demons this strong looking like they’re about to shatter like glass, Hell’s finest having tears pool up and drip down their faces as they kneel around Leviathan. He was in shock, whispering in angelic tongue, a prayer and words that just seemed to spill out of his mouth because of his current surprised state.

He shouldn’t have spoken a word, especially not in tongues.

In the blink of an eye Lucifer was in full demon form, slamming him against the wall with a snarl, his eyes betraying the look of fury on his face. His powers making the angel feel like his very soul was being torn apart, the fury of an ex archangel was nothing to laugh at.

“It was you wasn’t it? Does father really wish for me to suffer that he’d send one of his glorified rodents down to take my family away?! Haven’t we had our punishment?!” His words like a frozen blade, cold and cutting deep as the angel struggled in his grasp, wriggling like a worm in a bird's beak.

“Lucifer, stop! I understand your anger, but clearly you aren’t thinking straight, do you want another war?” Orion didn’t need to look to know who was speaking, Satan being the voice of reason, knowing that he couldn’t have done it. “He was with me the entire time, let the angel go before you start something you can’t finish!”

With a growl, the raven haired demon released the celestial being, turning away from the gazes of his brothers, they all seemed to look up at him in search of command and comfort. Lucifer couldn’t protect Levi, the otaku who’d never done anything wrong, who never left his room. How could he protect them? Who did such a thing to Levi?

Sadly, they didn’t have time to mourn, if there was something there, someone there that could kill their third most powerful, they couldn’t rest until it too was breathless.

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reddogcollar · 3 years

Text

Oh.

In italics.

Allusion to self harm.

First/Prev/Next

Drew left the Great Oak at midday, feeling more frustrated than last night.

It had taken the entire morning for Bergan and Gretchen to work something out, and they'd started the moment the sun lit the sky.

At the moment, everyone he happened to encounter was talking about Wyld Wolves, and whether the threat was really neutralized, or whether the festival had been cancelled entirely, or whether there were enough Green Capes in the city to defend them, or something else trivial.

It took everything not to snap at everyone who spoke to him, including Gretchen, Bergan, and especially Trent.

He knew everyone had their reasons, the townsfolk were still nervous after the Wyldermen invasion, the soldiers were being strained to make everyone feel safe, and they all needed something that'd get their minds off it.

And it was his job to reassure them all that everything was fine.

But he could only hear the same worries for so long without glaring at whoever he was talking to.

So at the moment he was trying to get away from everyone.

Walking through alleys and behind houses, where he was less likely to run into anyone else, he ended up skirting the walls separating them from the forest.

If he were to leave the city all together, he'd certainly be left alone.

Though, he may also have to explain himself, or run into a patrolling Greencloak, and he didn't want to have to tell anyone they'd been annoying him all day.

He may cross the path of a, or several, Wylderman, and while he did feel like hitting something, he could just as well hit the wall.

He didn't hit the wall.

A part of his job was people being too paranoid and him having to deal with it whenever he talked with them. And he'd need to get used to that.

He wasn't a man of the people. They rallied around him when they needed to, and they'd fought a war in his name, but he wasn't a man of the people.

He didn't enjoy cities or organizing groups or politics.

The life he'd anticipated was a quiet one on the Coast. With livestock, crops, and a minimum of worries beyond the weather.

He'd made the choice to give that up.

So he needed to get used to being a man of the people.

He kept walking.

In the entire city, besides himself, there were four people who weren't worried about a nonexistent threat. Out of those four, there was only one he wasn't frustrated with.

He needed to see Hector anyways, after missing last night.

Still keeping himself out of the crowd, he made his way to the Garrison Tree.

It wasn't hard. The Garrison Tree had been set aside from everything that was more busy, and for everyday life. It'd probably be a bit grim to have a jail in the middle of the market.

Inside, he climbed the stairs till he came to the guard.

With every bit of passive assertiveness they'd been trained in, the guard did not let him pass.

"The Duke's orders, sir." They said, standing stiff in front of the door.

"I'm aware of the Duke's orders. And I can assure you you'll be in no trouble if you let me pass." He said, his voice coming out flat.

Any intonation would probably lead to him snapping and someone who was just doing their job.

"I don't recall the order to not let anyone see him being rolled back, sir." The Greencloak said, their eye contact wavering, unsure.

Drew stared at them for a moment. It'd be easy to lie, and would come at no cost to the guard, if he could help it.

"Well, it did. Don't let this happen again."

The soldier hesitated, before nodding and unlocking the door with an apology.

The door creaked open, and he slipped inside, nodding at the Greencloak. Hector didn't seem to notice.

Drew took a seat, and before anything else, noticed the off-white cloth wrapped around Hector's hand.

"Are you alright?"

He stared at nothing for a moment, before seeming to realize he'd been spoken to.

"Hm?" Hector turned his head, just slightly. The bags under his eyes made it look like he'd gotten into a fight.

"Your hand. Why's it wrapped like that?"

Instead of answering, he simply unwrapped and his hand and shrugged.

A crooked scar ran sideways along his palm. Clearly fresh, though not particularly deep, Drew thought. However old it was, it'd stopped actively bleeding. There were cuts along his fingers as well, but they weren't as noticeable.

"Nothing special." He said.

The sight made Drew itch. Blood had never bothered him, after the war, it was gore that was the problem.

A clean cut was making his stomach roll and his muscles tense.

"What happened?" Hector couldn't have possibly gotten in a fight with anyone, except perhaps the guard. Very few people actually knew who he was, and most of them were Greencloaks.

There'd be an uproar if it became common knowledge that they were housing Blackhand. A guard was the only person who'd know who he was, and want to do something about it.

Hector didn't look at him, shaking out and his hand instead.

"Nothing special." He repeated, his voice flat.

Drew wrinkled his nose. The room felt off. More compressed. Confined.

Darker.

He'd forgotten about the candles when he'd come in.

His stomach flipped, as if he were the one who had a problem with the dark, and he got up to light the candles.

"Don't bother." Hector muttered, stopping him. "It's just a waste of candles."

Drew stayed where he was, stood next to a book shelf that had most of the candles on it. He wasn't sure about leaving open flames next to old, dusty books, but it was the darkest corner of the room now.

"Hector," He asked, stilled poised to light a candle, "Did something happen last night?"

"I'm fine. There's just nothing to be done about it." Hector sighed, sinking into himself, holding his head in his hand and staring absently at the wall.

They both paused for a moment, neither doing anything, before he added on.

"Viles, that is. There's nothing to be done about viles."

Drew glanced at the cluster of candles, hardly any lit, before abandoning them and sitting back down.

"Surely there's some way to dispel them. You got rid of your brother."

Hector snorted, but otherwise didn't move, or even look at Drew. His eyes were glued to the wall, half open.

"I didn't get rid of Vincent, I got away from him. I wouldn't be surprised if his spirit is tied to Bevan's tower now, where he died."

"That doesn't mean getting rid of them is impossible, not necessarily." Drew pushed. Even if Hector was stuck in that room till he died, surely there was a way to get rid of the spirits in it so he could live in peace.

Hector sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"Maybe. Probably. If it can be done, I didn't find out when I had the chance." He said, his voice becoming edged.

It'd been advised that he didn't ask for any books on magistry or necromancy, or anything of the like. He never tried.

"I really don't feel like talking about this, honestly. How goes it out there?"

Drew paused, annoyed for a second at the change in topic before biting his tongue. He couldn't force help onto someone who didn't want it.

A "man of the people" is a patient man. He'd be patient.

"Trent's caused quite the problem, threatening to maul a Greencloak like that. In the end, he agreed not to step foot in the Dyrewood once he leaves. Bergan's still sore about it though, giving everyone a scare when they're at their lowest." He explained.

"Last night, he and Gretchen bickered back and forth for hours. Eventually they stopped giving useful suggestions on what to do with him, and just argued. And then she brought you into the mix, and started a whole new argument." He sighed.

While he agreed with Gretchen, he wished it could have been brought up at any other time. When Bergan wasn't already feeling argumentative.

"Did she?"

The way Hector spoke made it seem like he wasn't quite listening, like he wasn't all there. Drew continued anyway. If he only wanted to half listen, then he'd give him that.

"She did. She told Bergan he was irrational, and that he's not fit to sentence anyone while he's got you locked up."

Hector paused, thinking over what he'd said, or something else, he couldn't tell. Something was bothering him, clearly. Probably the same things that had been bothering him. Drew didn't want to assume, though.

"Then what?"

"They nearly mauled each other-"

Hector flipped around to look at him before he could finish, looking alert for the first time. And shocked.

"Don't worry, they're both fine-" Drew started to clarify.

Before Hector interrupted him.

"Yes, I heard you, but he nearly mauled his niece?"

Drew couldn't tell if it was shock or outrage on his face. Maybe both.

"I know," He sighed, "None of us were at our best so late at night-"

"There's no excusing this, Drew!"

"I know! I know, its just... They're fine now. You don't need to worry, Bergan wouldn't do anything to hurt her." Drew reassured him, trying to sound as sure of himself as he could in the fact.

If anything, Bergan probably wouldn't attack first, at least.

Hector stared at him, with his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. He wasn't quite buying it. Nevertheless, the seemed to give up on the matter and went limp, leaning against the back of the chair.

"She shouldn't have done that." Hector muttered, looking directly at the ceiling. "Its not worth it."

"What do you mean?" Drew could guess what he meant, he asked anyway.

"I mean she shouldn't be provoking him for nothing!" Though Hector didn't move, or noticeably change his expression, his voice rose, then fell again. "It's not her place."

"Its her place more than anyone's, she's your cousin."

"If she's going to get herself mauled by a bear, then its not!" He exclaimed, pulling himself back upright to look at Drew. "She's needed in Hedgemoor, she can't go getting herself killed over nothing."

"It's not over nothing, its over you! She's not even getting herself killed, anyways. We're all being as diplomatic as we can." Drew argued back, fighting the urge to stand up.

Towering over him probably wouldn't help.

"Well stop! It doesn't matter! If Bergan hasn't changed his mind already then he won't. It's a waste of your time!"

"We're not wasting our time, and we're not stopping! He's not that cruel. He'll listen." He insisted, trying to keep his voice down. He wanted to stay calm, or look it at least.

"Well maybe he shouldn't!" Hector did not feel the same.

"Hector-"

"Maybe I'm right for once and you should just give up! Even if he listens, what good would it do?" Hector cut him off, leaning forward with his hand on his knee. "Necromancy was all I was good at. Magistery is about devoting your life to helping people and all I could do was the exact opposite! Just give it a rest."

Drew didn't respond right away, his brow knitted together. When he stayed quiet, Hector leaned back against the chair, staring at the ceiling.

There was still no getting through to him. It was all obvious to Drew, that he wouldn't be hurting anyone, that of course Bergan was being absurd, of course he wouldn't stop trying, of course Hector can do good in the world.

He was too smart not to. He'd already been doing good for the last year, good for Drew at least. Every visit had left him feeling relieved. He could only be emotionally closed off for so long before-

Oh.

He understood why Trent was laughing at him.

Drew stood up, so quick the chair almost toppled backward. It startled Hector out of that absent look.

"Get up." He practically ordered him, though he really meant it to be a request.

"I-"

"Get up."

Hector stared at him, like what he was doing was absurd, but got up anyways. Slowly and carefully, never taking his eyes off Drew. Like a cornered animal.

Drew grabbed his wrist the second he was up, taking him toward the door.

A few steps away, Hector stopped, stiff and digging his heels into the ground.

Drew turned to look at him, and the look he got gave him pause.

Hector stood there, wide eyed and frightened looking, with his wrist in a vice. His pulse was hammering, Drew could feel it.

He let his grip go loose, sliding his hand down so he wasn't squeezing his wrist like that.

He was leading him by the hand instead.

"Come on." He said, the edge gone from his voice. It was more of a request than a command.

He opened the door for Hector, and lead him out.

#hi gay people<3 #im not a romantic and frankly its hard to put strong emotion into words #so this was a struggle!#but as funny as you think this chapter is. the next will be even funnier #trust me #also for reference! his hand isn't a continuity error.

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silenceofthecookies · 4 years

Text

Bleach matchup - nakunakunomi

Giveaway prize for @nakunakunomi

Matchup for me :D No gender preferences I am a biromantic ace.

Your age: 24

Your general appearance - most striking features, your fashion style, etc.

Answer: Chubby mermaid lol. Long curly hair almost all the way down my back. Red at the moment, but I’ve had all colors of the rainbow. Ears pierced multiple times and a septum ring whenever I leave the house. My general style is comfy alternative, loads of black, boots and ripped jeans but baggy shirts and sweaters. I don’t like drawing much attention to my chest because my boobs are a very prominent feature. Hourglass figure with extra minutes: so there’s boobs and ass but also a tummy and such. I have dimples when I laugh and a whole bunch of moles over my body. I like a killer liner and mascara but don’t necessary wear makeup every day. I like 4 tattoos and waiting for that fifth one.

Your MBTI, western zodiac chart, etc.

Answer: INFP (mediator), Scorpio sun, Libra moon, Pisces ascending. Year of the rat. I’d say my MBTI type is pretty accurate and while I don’t have many of the bitchy traits often assigned to Scorpios, I do have some of the passion towards things I care about and a generally jealous and stubborn personality.

Your personality, how you perceive yourself and how people around you perceive you.*

Answer: Stubbornness and some jealousy (that is always internalized) are my worst traits. I lack self-esteem and confidence and get anxious in new situations. Once I am around people I trust I blossom open and become more giggly (lame jokes and such) my humor is about 50% puns and 50% sarcasm. I am quick-witted with ‘mean’ remarks but I will never intend to offend or cause harm to anyone. Tough exterior comes with a soft interior. I tend to overthink and worry a lot and will usually put a friend’s needs above mine. I often have people coming to me for advice or to help them calm down. I will be honest in the softest way possible, even if the things I need to say aren’t necessarily nice. I want my friends to flourish. I get easily distracted by cute things and can really enjoy beautiful sights, nice food, good company… i am heavily introverted but I do need the handful of people I care about to flourish myself. I accumulate facts and know loads of small things about a lot of things. I like adding in fun facts every now and then but sometimes I come across as a know-it-all and then I will get really self-conscious about it. I either talk up a storm nonstop or turn into myself and get really really quiet.

Your hobbies, interests, life goals etc.*

Answer: anything creative: reading and writing, drawing (although I’m terrible at it), pixel art. Singing, making music, playing instruments, DIYing things. I am quite good with makeup and wigs, and I cosplay but the sewing I still struggle with. I love acting and gaming as well although I don’t spend that much time on them. I am super heavily interested in true crime, cases, and the psychology of murderers and such. I tend to get overexcited talking about such cases, never celebrating violence, but just being very fascinated by what a human brain can do. I also just really love riddles, mysteries, and solving them. I’d love to become a teacher or a professional dog trainer. I love animals more than I love people and if I could work with dogs every day of my life that’d be amazing. An unrealistic goal would be to sing for a living, or do musicals. But I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen.

Your favorites, likes, dislikes, pet peeves, fears.*

Answer: food! Mainly Asian dishes (from all of Asia) and pastas. I love cooking and experimenting in the kitchen and trying out new things to taste. I’m vegetarian but not vegan and I will try everything that’s not meat or fish at least once! I love all kinds of animals, not only your average pets. I will also go pet the cows, and in the zoo you’ll have to drag me away by my ankles from the reptilians and the aquarium. I am fascinated by them and I love them. I love plants and flowers, and if you’d let me be, Id have a small jungle in my house with all kinds of plants and animals. I just love taking care of them, talking to them… I dislike arrogant people, people who are rude against serving staff. I dislike impoliteness and laziness in the sense that other people are suffering from your lack of work. If I am in a group project I will never procrastinate because it can drag the whole group down, it’s okay to be lazy if it only impacts yourself. I am afraid of loneliness and the fact that everyone I know just pretends to like me while talking behind my back and secretly hating me. I am not easily startled by monsters, animals, and such, but I do get a little paranoid if I have to walk in the street in the middle of the night. (a side effect from the true-crime consumption)

Any additional info you would like to share, fun facts, etc.

Answer: I think I added most things in the other walls of text (sorry they are so long). But when it comes to relationship and goals around that there are these things that I think are most important:

Patience, because I have some anxiety issues as well as fear of commitment. I will definitely need some reassurance. Also consent is the sexiest thing in the world, and that’s coming from an ace person. Honesty, liars are out. I have a lot of trouble trusting again once there has been a breach of trust. White lies for surprises and such is one thing, but any intentional lying in order to avoid confrontation is an absolute dealbreaker.

Love language is mostly quality time and words of affirmation, and that’s what I like too, as well as soft PDA and affections: cuddles, kisses, hand holding… I like spending time together, and even more so I like actually doing things together: sharing hobbies, going out, dates, dinners, walks, adventures, travels… all the things! :hellmo:

I match you with...

Nelliel Tu Odelschwank

Nelliel is the perfect match for you! She’s extroverted so she’ll be the first one to reach out to you. Her intentions are always very clear, though she’s very careful to not overstep any boundaries. No matter how much time you need because of your anxiety and commitment issues, Nelliel has set her mind on you and she will be as patient as you need her to be.

Nelliel is the type of woman to support you through anything, good or bad. You want to adopt a pet? She’ll go with you and help you pick if needed. You want plants on every free surface in your house? Time to go to the shop. You’re about to meet some new people and you’re anxious? She’s there right next to you.

Nelliels love languages are physical touch and quality time. As long as she an be close enough to sneak a hug or a kiss in every now and then, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. Seeing you being passionate about your hobbies makes her smile every time and she will gladly try your hobbies as well. She loves drawing with you, even if neither of you are very good at it. Sometimes, when making something, she’ll ask you to sing something for her. She might join in, but she prefers to hear you sing.

Nelliel too loves reading a lot, so being snuggled up together on the couch under the same blanket, both with your own book and your own cup of tea is a regular happening. And if you start cooking something for her? Oh god, this woman will be putty in your hand. She’s not a very picky eater and will eat literally anything you make her. Food is another thing she loves, and with you spoiling her with all these amazing dishes, you can expect lots of hugs and kisses in return.

Late night conversations between you and Nelliel will be the absolute best. With your general knowledge and Nelliels imagination, conversations can go to the weirdest but most amazing places. Nelliel loves your humour as well and will gladly join in with her own lame jokes and puns. It’ll be one pun after the other and before you know it, the two of you will be clutching your stomachs.

One of the many things Nelliel loves about you is your hair. The curls, the colours, the length… she thinks it’s absolutely gorgeous. Another thing she absolutely loves about you are your dimples. They are the cutest thing and she will surprise kiss then while you’re laughing.

Cheerfulness aside, Nelliel can be serious when needed. She’s a great listener and gives great advice as well. Despite what her cheerful attitude would let on, Nelliel is very perceptive and knows when something is bothering you. Much like you, Nelliel can’t stand liars either. She’s very clear in communication and refuses to have any serious secrets from you, even if they’re hard to talk about. During arguments, Nelliel will rarely raise her voice. Violence, physically verbally or emotionally, are a big no-no for her, so she’ll always remain mature during these moments.

#bleach matchup #matchmaker cookie #cookie writes #matchup #nakunakunomi #400 followers event #scheduled post

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jasperwhitcock · 4 years

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equinox | chapter 06 –– “open book”

here is chapter chapter six of my bella as a vampire and edward as a human fanfic inspired by an au that @bellasredchevy posted. you can read the new chapter on AO3 or here. i post updates on AO3 or on tumblr using the #equinoxjw tag. but sometimes it doesn’t work. so. um.

the last time i wrote for this, it was BEFORE midnight sun came out. and now, midnight sun has been out for two weeks (oops...now FOUR weeks), i’ve finished it, i am miserable as a result, and finally, SHOOK. here’s why: in the last chapter, i mentioned esme’s aversion to having her floors ruined by rain. in midnight sun, edward mentioned that multiple times. MY MIND.

everyone reading this is thinking like, yeah, sure “your mind” OR you’re dumb and should not be finding any humor that your lizard brain came up with the same basic idea as smeyer, known racist. maybe esme was just written with hardly any personality so it wasn’t that difficult to end up concocting the same idea. and… okay, you’re right. but in those moments, let me tell you, i was really feeling something. smeyer, you reading this?

to catch up since i’ve been busy, i reread my other chapters. and i really need to go back and edit them. so thank u for being here & bearing with me. hehe

also… the beige… that’s for y’all.

just a lil baby warning: there are conversations revolving around religion in this chapter. i wanted to mention that as a warning for the sake of anyone who has had negative experiences with church/religion (like me!) whom this topic makes uncomfortable. the local doctor and his children are VAMPIRES. you have been warned.

It was entirely unrealistic –– the possibility of running out of time –– but still, I expedited through the forest, the greenery blurring by me in long unfocused streaks. Although if I paid attention, I knew I’d still be able to see every microscopic detail. The fluffy moss growing along the trunks of the ground, the iridescent droplets of rain dotting the ferny leaves, the patterns in the wood of the trees. But I cared little to as I barreled forward, hurtling over uprooted trees and bounding over large pools of rainwater nestled in the muddy forest floor.

I lost a shoe leaping over the last fifty yard stretch of river, so I kicked the other off carelessly in midair. The shoe fell into the water with a powerful splash from the height. Alice could bite me later. I was in too great of a hurry to deal with her chastisement now. If she really cared for this pair of shoes, she could dive for it. Alice! The thought of my sister made me realize a reason I could actually be late. I needed a change of clothes.

As I fell back to the earth, reaching a hand forward to grasp onto a convenient branch, I focused, envisioning my arrival at the house, the flight of the stairs, and the knock on the door of her room. I pictured asking her my request, and though I had no intention of actually following through with these steps, I hoped the thought was enough for Alice to see what I wanted. It should be, because if it wasn’t, I’d have to go into the house anyways, but I really didn’t want to waste time.

I swung lightly onto the bough of another spruce, and nimbly travelled this way from branch to branch, juggling the journal all the while by throwing it into the air between trees and catching it again. I could run fast and delicately enough to avoid muddying my feet, but with how unfocused I was in my hurry, I didn’t want to risk needing to stop to wash off.

If they hadn’t been concerned already, now would really be the time that my family genuinely considered my descent into insanity, seeing me wildly and maniacally swing through the trees towards the house like Tarzan after having only melodramatically left hours prior.

I knew it wouldn’t last, but I felt somehow liberated by the realizations that I’d come to in my wintry jungle. After hours of considering the right way forward navigating my now complicated future, I’d decided to face it head on. To stubbornly confront the problem. I was tired of feeling unlike myself and feeling distanced from my family, though my new resolution might encourage the rift I’d only just mended with Rosalie. Even with my grievances, I still enjoyed this life, the strength I’d found in it. The sense of rightness and belonging that contrasted how I’d felt so weak and out of step as a human. I wanted to bask in that again. I wanted to take action.

I decided the best way to reattain that freedom was rather than leave the boy alone, I’d challenge the vision. Seek him out this morning. Return the journal to him. Sit beside him. And in my ability to do so, I’d then prove his irrelevance to me, his powerlessness over my self control.

And although it was still a ridiculous thought to entertain, if I did find in me some concern or care for him, then that’d be even better. It’d certainly be strange, but it’d also strengthen my resolve to leave him be with his own life rather than make any choices he couldn’t even be knowledgeable enough about to consent to. Then, once I’d done so, I could truly leave him alone for good. I’d toyed with completely ignoring him from the beginning as I said I would, but then I decided that outcome wouldn’t develop from inaction. I was far too headstrong to leave this alone without trying to face it.

I will admit that a part of me was curious about Alice’s vision, curious about a friend or even a partner in this life… But the thought of Edward as that partner made me recoil. He was too irritating –– not the ideal candidate to spend an eternity with.

He was smart, though. And kind too, I noted, thinking of the way he’d cheered up the girl in the hospital… But definitely irritating. I’d have endless time to decode what had made him so relentless and smart-mouthed, but once I’d made the discovery, what then?

I had spent hours turning the little brown journal in my hands over and over, studying the worn leather, the folds and creases, tempted to open it and uncover his secrets. During an hour where I’d been resolved to go forth with pretending he didn’t exist, I’d even considered sneaking back to his house and finding my way in to leave the journal by his side so that I wouldn’t have to give it back to him myself in person. But that –– and also privily reading it without his permission –– seemed indefensibly invasive.

I didn’t mind being a vampire if that’s what I was. But that didn’t mean I had any desire to fulfill some of the creepier of the tropes.

Once I reached the tree closest to the garage, I tightroped onto a thin branch. Then, cautious as to not break it, I gently pushed down and sprung off, diving like a swimmer seventy feet down, the journal clasped between my outstretched hands. The distance was very short, and I landed softly, focusing greatly on doing so in a cautiously tactile way that wouldn’t cannonball me through the building and barreling into the ground. I rolled like a bowling ball to a stop on the vegetative, vine-covered roof in a cluster of silky honeysuckle and tickling lavender wisteria.

Even now all these years later, I felt kind of giddy at the impossible physics of my body’s capability for control, so I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I even laughed a little more thinking again of how my family might see my behavior –– me laughing here in the flowers –– as lunacy in how drastically it differed from the darkness of the personal rain cloud I’d been carrying over me.

From the house, I heard a deep chuckle and the sound of a scoff, confirming that I did have an audience. It must be Emmett mocking the impressiveness of my nosedive. I smiled, feeling very much like myself again.

I hopped off the roof to the ground and entered the garage. Sure enough, Alice had laid out a small pile of clothes for me for the upcoming school day. I stripped, unceremoniously dropping the garments I was wearing into a pile on the floor and reached for the clothing. Then, I groaned.

“Alice!” I hissed her name like an expletive. I thought we’d moved past my sister’s insistence on using me as her personal doll, but it seemed this was her attempt for a revival. Maybe she was determined to punish me for the way I’d destroyed my shoes. Rather than a sensible sweater and jeans, Alice had taken advantage of my hurried need and elected to pick out a cropped turtleneck sweater and a mini skirt, both black. The sweater wasn’t awful in that the crop wouldn’t be exposing with the high waist of the skirt, but the bodycon fit of the skirt, the crocodile print of the polyurethane, and the ludicrous split up the side… Alice was deranged. This had to have come from her own closet.

She had the good sense to include sheer black tights to hide some of the disconcerting flawlessness and freaky whiteness of my skin –– not that that would matter much in how off-putting and contrasting I’d look in all black anyways –– but I’d have preferred converse over the matching black boots. At least the heel of the boot was more reasonable than I’d expect from her. Not more reasonable than converse, though.

I imagined showing up to Edward’s house. Hey, Edward! Here I am to drive you to school, pale and ridiculous. Also, I’m a vampire. Here’s your journal.

I considered the short run to my room in the house, but again, I was already running late…

I tugged the clothes on and hopped into the pearly white car, throwing the journal into the passenger seat. As I reversed out of the garage, I felt thankful for the engine upgrades Rosalie worked on that allowed for the instant rapidity of the acceleration.

I spun sharply, letting the car spin out with an obnoxiously loud screech until I was facing the long drive away from the house. In the rearview mirror, I watched as Rosalie entered the garage, her golden eyes shocked and her mouth open as I sped away.

My reckless driving only warranted a few irritated honks on my way to Edward’s house through the morning traffic –– one dark green Honda specifically gave me a long piece of their mind when I cut them off –– before I was whipping around the corner onto his street.

Just as I pulled in front of the lonely house, I watched as Edward casually jogged down the steps of his porch, his sleek backpack hanging carelessly off one shoulder and an apple in his hand.

His tangle of bronze hair was like a low burning flame against the muted monochromatism of the grey house and the grey sky and the grey pavement. Today, he wore a light tan turtleneck that clung tightly to his chest, slim beige trousers, and a long black coat that ended above the knees. His fancy belt, his long socks, and his suede boots were all black too. I didn’t particularly consider him to be someone who cared much about what others thought about him, but he seemed pretty meticulously dressed. I wondered if he dressed to impress others or dressed for himself. Neither decision particularly mattered, but it’d been so long since I thought about something so human –– the thought process of selecting what to wear and considering how you wanted to present yourself.

The clothes I wore ceased to matter long ago. I never particularly had an interest in fashion, so it was easy to allow Alice to select my wardrobe. And for the most part, she got it right. Only when I found her selections to be impractical, such as today, did I really care. But it was a rarity that she tried to push me too far out of my comfort zone anymore. She’d given up on me, or maybe she had just become more clever about finding the right opportunities to dress me in something absurd… I liked things that I could easily move around in.

Alice would approve of his outfit, I thought. Maybe if he liked fashion, they really would get along. But that didn’t matter because I had no intentions of involving Alice and her freaky little visions in my experiment.

Seeing me parked there, he froze for a moment, before his lips curved into a huge smile. Edward laughed, throwing his apple up in the air and catching it again. He half-jogged forward to meet me. I took a deep, clean breath full of the leather scents of the car’s interior and rolled down the window, leaning forward towards him.

Edward bent over so that his head could duck down to see my face through the window, and he shook his head again, chuckling.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hello, Edward,” I smiled pleasantly, trying to play nice.

He eyed me suspiciously, but the glint in his pretty green eyes was teasing, the grin that lit them up never fading.

“I’ve come to bring you this, fresh from the scene of the crime––“ I grasped hold of the leather bound book in my hand, raising it up to wave it before setting it back down, “––and to offer you a ride to school. I’m sure it’d be a humbling experience for you to walk, but I felt bad about your pretty car being flattened like a pancake.”

“You’re not irritated with me?” Edward asked, slightly cocking his head to the side.

“Are you irritated with me?” I countered.

“Never,” he beamed.

“Well, then we can call a truce,” I half smiled. “You’re not curious as to why I’m forcing you to carpool, making your getting to school my business?”

“The wasting of finite resources is everyone’s business. But of course, I am curious.”

“As usual,” I mumbled under my breath. Hesitantly, I breathed in. It was like pulling the chord on a hot-air ballon with the way his scent ripped my throat into flames. I was grateful for the distraction of someone grumbling to themself as they turned onto the street, because instead of spiraling, I was able to instead laugh as I realized who I had cut off a few traffic lights ago. I looked in the rearview mirror and sure enough recognized Sara, the sandy blonde, driving the ugly green Honda.

“Hmm… Well, I wouldn’t want to upset your girlfriend––” I bit my lip momentarily to keep myself from laughing, “––so I wouldn’t be offended if you said no.”

“Who?” Edward asked, but his smile had faded as his eyes watched my lips intently.

He looked back into my eyes after a second, blinking as he realized I was staring at him staring at me, then up at the car awkwardly pulling in behind me.

“Oh,” he chuckled as he realized who I meant. “I’ll be just a moment.”

I watched in my side-view mirror as Edward approached Sara on the drivers’ side.

“Hey, Sara,” he said as she cranked her window down.

“Hey, Ed,” she grumbled, kind of irritated. I should have felt guilty for disrupting her plan, but her irritation with Edward instead provoked my nerves. Also, the fact that she called him Ed bothered me too. “I guess you made it out alive. I’d have been here sooner, but Cullen cut me off. I got suck at a red light.”

“Did she?” Edward laughed. “Well, I’m really sorry, Sara. This is so nice of you, but Bella offered to drive me to school today. I’d cancel now that you’re here, but after she saved my life, I’d feel terrible doing so. Is it alright if I see you at school?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she snapped, trying to seem unbothered despite the tightness of her jaw and the edge in her voice.

“I’m sorry again, Sara. I really appreciate that you came here,” Edward smiled a dazzling smile.

“No big deal. I’ll see you at school,” she lifted the corners of her lips once before turning away, her mouth in a tight line.

He sighed watching as she drove past me and away before a crooked smile reappeared on his face as he walked back to my car. I didn’t have time to wonder if he would have preferred to ride with her. It didn’t seem likely.

“…Ed?” I asked as he crossed back to the passenger side.

“You heard that?” Edward chuckled. He slid his backpack off his back, opened the door, and dipped his tall frame into the car. He picked up the journal before settling into the passenger’s side, adjusting the seat to make room for his legs and backpack. “I’m not particularly fond of that nickname. Or any, for that matter. My mother called me Teddy sometimes. I prefer Edward.”

“I do too,” I agreed, breathing in the potency of his fragrance. I clutched the steering wheel tightly and swallowed dryly.

“So,” he began once he was comfortable. “Are you feeling more open today?”

“No,” I answered as I began to drive towards the school.

Edward sighed, but he shook his head, amused. Clearly, he’d decided to play nice too. “Do you ever get tired of ambiguity, Bella?”

Yes.

“No,” I teased, rolling my eyes. “I enjoy being mysterious far too much.”

“Mysterious enough to keep me up at night,” he egged on.

“I’m sure you slept just fine.”

“How’d you sleep?” Edward asked. I looked over at him, ignoring the tingling of my tongue in anticipation of the taste of his sweet blood. I should have thought of a response, but I was too busy fighting off my instincts to think of a lie. His pretty eyes narrowed in thought as he analyzed my face and the dark circles beneath my golden eyes.

Suddenly, I froze, my muscles locking down as he reached forward, his hand gently touching my hair. I didn’t dare breathe as the heat of his skin enveloped me in warmth. His hand lingered for a moment before it pulled back, holding up a broken piece of fern.

“You had a leaf in your hair. How’d that get there?” Edward almost whispered, his lips curved into a half-smile.

A strange electricity throbbed through my body, and the sensation was so odd. Like my heartbeat should be thrumming loudly in my ears. Deafening. But my heart was frozen and dead, so I only heard the beat of Edward’s. We sat in silence for a moment as my mind spun in the dizziness.

“Maybe I should have accepted Sara’s offer,” he joked after a moment, laughing, but I wondered what he made of the affliction I was trying to hide on my face. Around him, no matter my attempts at subterfuge, it felt as though my face was an open book in which he could read all my secrets. I refocused my eyes on the road, too distracted by the warmth of his pale face and the prettiness of his green eyes as the forest flew by in the window behind him.

“Maybe,” I agreed, smiling softly, smiling sadly. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should jump out of the car and run before I accidentally kill you.

“But,” he mused gently, trying to keep the mood light and playful. “She probably doesn’t have heated seats.”

His effort to comfort the conflict raging within me that he didn’t even understand worked. I snorted.

I continued driving, thinking of ways to bring up the journal.

“You look lovely today, by the way,” he smiled, appraising me. “Which is not to say that you don’t on any other day, but you do look very pretty.”

I felt oddly incomplete as I waited for reactions my body was no longer capable of. Reactions I’d forgotten. There was another strange sensation in my cheeks as if they should be very warm.

My head whipped towards him in surprise, my eyebrows pulling up.

“What?” He immediately asked in shock, his heart beat picking up. My reaction didn’t totally alarm him though, because his lips were still pulled up at the corners. Edward seemed to always be smiling. Or maybe smirking was the better word. “Do you not get compliments often? I find that rather hard to believe.”

“No, it’s not that,” I relaxed my face. “I was just caught off guard. Lovely…That wasn’t particularly something I’d expect a seventeen year old boy to say.”

“Oh,” he relaxed, easily grinning again.

“Are you even seventeen?” I found myself smiling in return.

“Are you?” He countered.

My mood darkened as my lips dropped immediately, but I fixed the smile back onto my face so he couldn’t see how exposed I felt.

“You know, my mom used to say that I was born thirty five years old, and that I get more middle-aged every year.”

“Hmm…” Edward nodded, his eyes narrowed again as he scrutinized me. I wondered if this clarified some assumption he’d made about me.

I turned into the school parking lot. I saw the gleaming cherry redness of Rosalie’s ostentatious car and desperately hoped she was already inside one of the brick buildings.

“So,” he prompted, his tone mysteriously patronizing. “Did you read this?”

I glanced over to see the accusation in his eyes as he held up the journal, but he didn’t seem angry whatsoever. They were still light. Still playful.

“What? No, of course not,” I defended myself. But my voice was unpersuasive, the pitch coming out a little too high to give my words any credibility.

I parked beside Rosalie. The car was luckily empty, so I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. Ha! As if my sister would have confronted me here, and I’d have driven away, effectively kidnapping Edward… I scoffed at myself. I clenched the hand Edward couldn’t see into a tight fist, concentrating all of my strength in my fight against temptation into the way my fingers dug into my palm.

I turned my face to look at Edward, whose face was condescending, his thick eyebrows pulled up in disbelief.

“I’m serious! Maybe I look guilty because I considered it, but I didn’t actually follow through.”

His face relaxed into a crooked smile. “Okay, I believe you. I’d have forgiven you anyways.”

“Does that mean if I ask you about the contents, you’ll share?” I asked eagerly. I’d read so many books in my life that this new mystery novel easily became just like another book I was dying to read.

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, chuckling. Edward reached for his bag, winking at me, and opened his door, ducking his head to get out. I swiftly undid my seatbelt and was out beside him probably much too fast, my backpack slung onto my shoulder. For a moment, I wondered if my siblings needed their useless backpacks too since we typically drove this car to school, but I figured Alice must have rescued them from the trunk after seeing my plans for this morning.

He blinked, looking down at where I suddenly appeared.

“Why?” I inhaled through my mouth, grateful for the influx of fresh rainwater and firs that helped dilute Edward’s scent.

His heart thrummed in his chest, and being so close to him, the sound was like thunder surrounding me as I listened, becoming attuned to it. The splash of puddles as tires hightailed through the parking lot, the slam of locker doors as students got their books, and the chatter of kids as they entered the school all seemed like irrelevant ambiance now.

“Because,” Edward breathed. His breath was shaky, but his face remained cool. The sweetness of the smell washed over my face, and I clenched my fist again. “That wouldn’t be fair whatsoever.”

“And why not?” I demanded.

“You expect me to entrust you with all of my secrets when you won’t trust me with just one of yours?”

He wasn’t wrong. But I couldn’t exactly divulge anything about the accident. I was already breaking too many rules. My own rules. My own promises I’d made to my family.

“How about…” I considered, though my thoughts were headed in a dangerous direction. “If you happen to have any theories, you can share one, and I’ll either confirm or deny it.”

“Just one?”

“Yes.”

“How is that worth the very much intimate documentation of my entire mind, Bella? That’s hardly sufficient.”

“Fine, I don’t care about your stinking journal,” I snapped, stubbornly poking my chin in the air a fraction.

He surprised me by actually throwing his head back to laugh.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“You’ve got a bit of a temper, don’t you?” he considered this for a moment, beaming. “Okay, I’ll accept these conditions. But later.”

“Later?” I demanded, feeling a sense of injustice as I froze in place. He continued forward and took a bite of his apple. The juice spilled out sweetly into the air, but the fragrance was unappetizing and certainly not as sweet as Edward’s blood.

“Thank you for the ride, Bella. I’ll see you in biology.” Again, he winked, walking backwards. He saluted me, waving once with the journal in his other hand and then turned around, clearly enjoying having the upper hand as he and temptation disappeared into the crowd of students.

I stood there, my mouth propped open. The sensation of being watched started to creep up on me and sure enough, I turned to find Rosalie ten yards away outside of the building to her first period. Her eyes were dark, cold, and fierce with betrayal. Guiltily, I looked away and headed off towards my first class.

Throughout my morning classes, I tried not to think about my family’s –– or rather, Rosalie’s –– opinions on my decision this morning. At this, I failed miserably. As I imagined explaining how really if I didn’t stay away from the boy, it would prove that I actually could leave him alone and exercise control against Alice’s visions, I started to find my logic extremely flawed and unbelievable. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe I was just too pigheaded. I tried not to think about this too.

Instead, I thought again about the secrets of his journal. Wasn’t this essentially the symbol of everything I’d been obsessing over? All of my wonderings and curiosities as for why he was so annoying and his eyes so perceptive could all be unraveled in that little book. I wondered if I’d be disappointed once the mystery was unveiled. Maybe the journal –– and by extension, Edward himself –– was not as interesting as I thought. I may have just been fixating on this because it was something different. But I told myself it’d be better for me to be disappointed. The sooner I could move on with my life.

Throughout the day, a couple of the braver students asked for details about the accident but became disappointed when I didn’t offer up the dramatics they were hoping for. I felt too shameful to discredit Edward’s accounts, so I irresponsibly dismissed the opportunities to ensure the accident yesterday hadn’t exposed anything unusual about me or my family. Eventually, as my monotonous account of the events spread through the tiny school, kids stopped asking.

I was impatient to get to biology, but before then, I’d have to face my siblings at lunch. When the bell rang after fifth period, I walked much too quickly to the cafeteria, dreading arriving but very much eager to get it over with. As I weaseled my way through the hallway –– which wasn’t difficult because even in the familiarity of the school, we were typically provided a wide berth –– I overheard the conversation of two other juniors. I froze in place as my plans shifted for the day. They discussed the difficulty of today’s biology pop exam, and I realized I wouldn’t have the hour of the day the school allotted to speak with Edward, the excuse I could provide my family in my defense. A freshman nearly rammed into me from behind, not expecting my sudden stop. Whoever it was recoiled immediately.

Well, I wasn’t going to miss out on whatever explanation he planned to provide because of some trivial pop exam. I rearranged my lunch plans, appreciating the excuse to postpone another family confrontation. We could battle it out at the long oval table later if necessary.

I entered the cafeteria and was second in the lunch line, only selecting a glass lemonade bottle so that the emptiness in front of me wouldn’t be unnerving for Edward. I figured it’d be more disconcerting to leave a tray of food in front of me untouched. I headed to a round table in the corner that was typically empty. This wouldn’t surprise my family when they entered. Alice would warn them.

I sat waiting as students filed in, either joining the growing line or meeting at their usual tables with their friends. I avoided Rosalie’s eyes when she entered the room, but I could still feel the iciness of her stare. I listened for Edward’s deep and soft voice to indicate his arrival, then when I couldn’t find it, instead listened for Sara’s to see if she may be with him. Sara was a loud, babbling talker, so it was easy to find her voice in the crowd of the hallway. She seemed to have gotten over her irritation from this morning as she animatedly spoke about some research she’d done the night prior into some potential colleges she might apply to.

I found that although I may feel some irrational resentment of her ability to be so close to Edward, I liked Sara. Maybe we would have even been friends if I was a human. And if her proximity to him didn’t bother me. She was prattling on about her dream of becoming a veterinarian, and her goals seemed so sincere that I almost felt guilty finding any enjoyment in having stolen Edward from her this morning.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t have intentions to do so again.

As I suspected, when Sara walked through the double doors, Edward was by her side. He was actively listening to her words –– always so polite to anyone who wasn’t me –– but once inside the lunch room, his eyes immediately flashed to the table in which my siblings were settling into. His thick eyebrows pulled together in confusion –– and maybe even disappointment? –– at the realization he didn’t find me there.

I was impatient as he purchased his lunch. Once he’d left the line, he still hadn’t noticed me sitting here. Maybe he was less perceptive than I gave him credit for. I felt a moment of awkwardness as I thought about having to get up, walk across the cafeteria, and ask him to join me in front of my family. I would still have done so, but I was immensely relieved when Sara noticed me.

“Are you eating lunch with Bella too?” The sandy blonde asked, her tone suddenly indignant. This time, I felt no pleasure in my thievery. Sara was right to want to reserve Edward to her human world, but I was too entranced with the mystery of his journal and the mystery of his mind to care.

Edward looked up, searching. His sage eyes were bright and animated once he found me here at the table. He held his tray in one large hand while combing the other through his untidy bronze hair. The arrogant confidence in his face made me smirk, and I rolled my eyes, lifting my hand to beckon him forward twice with my finger as if I was reluctantly pacifying a child.

“I guess so,” he laughed a little as he sauntered forward towards the table, leaving Sara behind gawking. I braced myself for the onslaught, inhaling one last fresh breath of air. How habitual this was becoming.

“I’m being gifted your presence outside of our biology class twice in one day? What did I do to deserve this?” He teased once he’d arrived, standing behind the seat across from me.

“Nearly die. I guess that’s a fair enough price to pay for my company,” I played along. If only he knew how true that still was. He grinned, his perfect teeth white and shiny. “Oh, don’t look so smug. I’m only here to uncover a mystery.”

“As am I,” he reminded me. I winced.

“Are you going to sit down?” I asked. He still stood behind the seat, tall and lean, a giant like my brothers. Not quite as towering and much slimmer, but still, I felt small in my seat looking up at him.

Edward leaned down to carefully place his tray on the laminate before comfortably settling into his seat as if we’d done this before. I glanced at his tray, curious as to his selection. A bottle of water, a grilled chicken salad, and a bag of dried fruit. I stared at the food for a moment as if this would provide me any clues about his mind.

“So,” he began. I looked up to meet his eyes and though I knew he’d be looking at me, I felt a jolt pulse through me. He caught something about my reaction, and a crooked smile appeared on his face.

“So,” I continued. “You were going to tell me about your journal.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I believe we agreed on a condition, did we not?”

“We did,” I admitted. “Go ahead.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure I’m actually ready to, Bella,” he pondered, and I felt odd again hearing him say my name.

“Why not?” I demanded, restless. Of course I was interested in the book, but I was also definitely interested in his theories. I couldn’t believe it had only been yesterday that the accident occurred. It felt like a lifetime ago. The same way that first day in biology did.

“I’ve only been given about twenty four hours to come up with any explanations.”

“And have you?”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling you’ll be very firm on only allowing one theory, so I want to hold out for the theory I’m most confident on.”

I frowned, and Edward laughed.

“Don’t worry though. I’ll tell you about my journal anyways. As long as you promise–– no, that’d be letting you off too easily. As long as you swear to me that you won’t forget your end of the deal.”

“I swear,” I promised, smiling at the silliness of his command. I took this moment to breath in his powerful scent, to wrestle with my desire.

“Hmm… I wonder if it’ll upset you,” his forehead crumped in thought. My patience was wearing so thin that the inexorable cloud of lust for his blood had little impact in comparison to the sudden aggravation at his procrastination.

“Oh, Edward!” I groaned, exasperated. “Would you just tell me? What could possibly upset me?”

For whatever reason, Edward burst into laughter at my outburst and couldn’t seem to stop.

I glared at him, and he tried to choke back his humor unsuccessfully. The irritation in my eyes didn’t deter him or instill any sense of fear in him. Briefly, I wondered if he was mentally sound.

“Okay, well, you can just go eat lunch with your little friends, and I’ll stay here and talk to myself.”

“Don’t be mad,” he pleaded as another laugh escaped. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You’re just so impatient. And for what? My uninteresting little journal?”

“You’re annoying, did you know that?”

“Maybe, but you’ve chosen to sit here with me, so you must like me for some reason,” he pointed out. For some reason indeed. Once again, he was right on target. My mouth gaped open.

“Okay, I’m getting up––”

“No, please, Bella. I’ll behave myself now. I’ll tell you about my journal. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” His smile was dazzling, and his eyes were fierce, sweet, and sincere. I was mesmerized, stuck in the seat across from him.

“Okay,” I said stupidly.

“My journal,” he began seriously, “is sort of a Bible.”

I waited for him to laugh again.

“No, really,” Edward did laugh but not as though he’d told a joke. “I know that’s kind of strange.”

Religion had never been a major facet of my life. A dozen memories flickered through my mind of the times as a human where my mother Renée had gone through impassioned phases where she attended church, trying on multiple denominations and religions for size. But just like the rest of her sudden and fleeting interests, her spiritual high wore off, and we never spoke about God or church again. Only when I became immortal did religion take a more permanent place in my thoughts. But it was only the proximity to Carlisle that made me consider spiritual beliefs, and even then, it was simply another topic to devote thought to in all the endless space in my head and all the endless time in which to fill it.

I didn’t know particularly what I believed nor if I cared much, but I did know that if Edward was religious enough to tote around a bible at school, he’d definitely not be pleased to know he sat across from an actual vampire.

“You carry around a bible?”

“Well, don’t make any judgments yet, alright? It’s not exactly a bible. It’s kind of difficult to explain.”

“I think I can keep up,” I said simply, feeling slightly awkward but still curious. I glanced down at his untouched food. “But you should probably eat.”

“And what about you?” He asked, eyeing my full lemonade bottle.

I unscrewed the tin cap for his benefit. Following my lead, he opened the plastic container of his salad. I waited impatiently as he slowly ate his food.

I watched him as he ate, but when his eyes flickered curiously up to me, I fixated my attention on the lemonade bottle, tracing the mouth of it with my pinky finger.

After a few moments, Edward spoke up. “What are you thinking?”

I looked up to meet his light green gaze and felt stuck there again, compelled to reveal everything.

“I’m trying to figure out what you think I am,” I admitted only one of my concerns, though even this was much too honest. I thought of the inspiration he could draw from his religious text. The second beast. The Nephilim. Cherubim. Demons. Even though I didn’t have a true understanding of the contents of the book, some of Carlisle’s paintings had provided me with enough of an idea.

“I’m not having much luck with that yet,” he answered.

I laughed, relieved. “Well, you have only been given twenty four hours.”

“What else are you thinking?” he asked again, sensing there was more.

I sighed, feeling uncomfortable under his analyzation. The weight of his watchful eyes was too penetrative.

“That a boy who carries around a bible probably wouldn’t like me very much.”

“Why? Are you a sinner?” He smiled teasingly, but his eyes were soft as he tried to pull me again from the gloominess that seemed to steal me away.

“Something like that.”

“Well, aren’t we all?”

“Not all dogs go to heaven,” I answered. He chuckled at how I butchered the expression.

“Hmm… I’m not sure if I absolutely believe in a heaven, but if I do, I think the prerequisites to make it in are much broader than the Christian faith teaches.”

“You carry around a bible but don’t believe in heaven?”

“I said I’m unsure. And I said it was difficult to explain, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I hardly understand what you mean the majority of the time either.”

We both laughed, and the synchronicity of the moment made me forget my intentions with bothering him in the first place. It made me realize that in a way, I actually did feel fondly of Edward.

“Here, I’ll explain. I’m done eating anyways.” He used a napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth, then pushed it away on top of his lunch tray.

“My mother was very religious,” Edward began. “She wasn’t pious or bigoted or forceful about her beliefs. She was kind… devout. She believed in goodness. Her entire life had been dedicated to caring for other people. She wasn’t someone whose true intentions were to condemn others with the hope to save them from hell. Rather, she seemed more focused on saving someone from unhappiness. A lot of other believers have been known to connect with someone only for the end goal of forcing them to change the way they live for the sake of feeling as though they saved them. She had always been offended by this insistence to control another’s lifestyle, believing that any Child of God should truly only be concerned with loving others.

“I have pages of verses ripped out from her bible stuck throughout my journal. It may seem sacrilegious to destroy a bible in that way, but she’d read through it so many times that it had completely fallen apart. I tried to save it when she died, but there was no hope to. It was too dilapidated and tattered. So in my own journal, I have all these notes I’ve written on the notes she wrote in her bible. All these confusing erratic writings, these scribbles, I’ve been trying to sort out, just trying to figure out how to be a good person.”

At the end of his speech, my mouth dropped open. Quickly, I closed it again.

“So, do you believe in a god?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“I’m not sure what I believe. If you don’t believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which is hard for me to accept myself, then a god seems to be just as reasonable an answer as anything else. But I do believe in science as well. And once again, I don’t believe that any higher being who created the entire universe would be so particular and unyielding on such frivolous, harmless human matters as to what you do…or who you love… I’m hesitant to speak about god publicly, not because I fear any kind of persecution for my complicated beliefs, but because I know that the church has caused a lot of damage to a lot of people. And I don’t want anyone to think I support any of that harm. But for innocent believers, I see nothing wrong with wanting a reason to hold onto hope if that’s what religion is for them.”

“Neither do I,” I agreed, thinking of Carlisle.

“I think at the core of any religion –– and I definitely am interested in studying other religions as well –– is the same message. To do good by others and yourself. Of course, historically, religion has been weaponized as a means to take control over innocent people, but in considering people like my mother… I sincerely hope that there is a god. For her sake.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t worry.” Edward smiled his crooked smile. “I’m not about to try and sell you some religious propaganda. At no point will I sit you down and ask, ‘do you mind if I take a moment to speak about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?’ That’s never been my mission. I’m not entirely certain whether or not I even consider myself religious.”

“So what is your mission then with the journal?”

“Perhaps this will sound a little pretentious, but it’s not so much that I’m curious about the chicken or the egg scenario… Evolution versus creation… I don’t care very much as to how we got here. I guess because my mother believed so profusely, and I consider her to be such a great person, I’m curious as to whether our morality is innate as people, or if all goodness is because we have some kind of spirit within us leading us to want to do right by other people. I think overall, it is innate. An atheistic individual can do wonderful things for the world just as someone who claims to love Jesus can do terrible things. I don’t think anyone who doesn’t believe chooses to do good for God, but I wonder if that innate sense of morality, sense of compassion is ingrained into us because of the fact we do have souls. So the question I’ve been trying to answer all these years is… do we? Does my mother die, fade to nothing, with her body? Or did she live on because she had a soul?”

“Those are big questions for a seventeen year old.”

“Those are big questions for anybody, no matter their age. And questions humankind has been trying to answer for thousands of years,” Edward chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t expect to be the one to stumble upon the answers. More so, I’m really trying to find some purpose in my mother’s life. I do want to honor her, and maybe if I can understand all the things she wrote about people and about God, then I can.”

“So what do you write?”

“I write my thoughts on what she journaled about. And I write about all the good things I see someone do. About the reasons why I think they did them… I study people a lot.”

“Do you ever feel creepy?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “I mean, it’s not that I’d be the type to watch someone while they sleep. But if someone comforts a friend, picks up a stray piece of trash off the ground, smiles at a stranger… I try to take notice. I want to notice people.”

Edward sighed. “I know this must sound arrogant, but I really do believe I’m very sensitive to the thoughts of other people. At least, I try to be. For example, I know Sara must not be very happy that I chose to ride with you this morning, or that I am sitting with you now. I’m not oblivious to her feelings for me. But it’d be very ungentlemanly of me to accuse her of those feelings if she prefers to keep them secretive, so I’ll define a boundary if needed to protect her feelings whenever she chooses to come forth about them. I’d like to retain our friendship, but I still make my own choices.”

“So…” I began, ignoring his point about Sara. “Let’s say we all did have souls. Could someone lose that soul by any chance?”

“Hmm…” he thought, his eyes intent, piercing into mine as though he were trying to read my mind. “Now, that’s a big question for a seventeen year old.”

I laughed along with him.

“Well, I’m not sure whether or not you can lose your soul –– if we have them, of course. Perhaps you could damage the integrity of it or compromise it somehow. Could it be lost in death? If there is something of a heaven, does that automatically imply the existence of a hell? What purpose does hell serve in torturing one’s soul for eternity? Justice? Do some people perhaps deserve that fate? I want to say no, but then you think of awful, malicious people who have done awful, malicious things. Murder. Genocide. Rape. Isn’t the losing of your soul in death, fading into nonexistence too easy of a punishment? Do those people warrant a judge, jury, and executioner? I would hope that there are consequences to evil actions, but I don’t understand the idea that if such a place exists for the most vile of humanity, nonbelievers and sinners would go to the same place as well according to the Christian faith. I would say on that front, the Bible must be profoundly off. That aspect has to be invented by man for a means of control. What creator would wish such a fate on someone so innocent as to simply be uncertain about a god? So does a nonbeliever or sinner simply cease to exist, therefore losing their soul? Or is there some kind of alternative? Like a purgatory in the Catholic faith. That too seems a cruel fate from what should be a loving God.”

I felt slightly uneasy, wondering what he would think of my non-life, if he would consider this to be the alternative for innocent sinners. I wondered if he would believe I had a soul.

Edward softened his expression at my discomfort. His eyes were gentle and kind.

“But I don’t think I believe that. Like I said, I think the division between good and bad, right and wrong, is less black and white than most religious people believe. I think it’s gray, and I think any higher power would realize that too. So if you’re making that face because you’ve sinned a little here and there or murdered somebody, maybe you can make a comeback.”

Edward winked, and I forced myself to laugh.

“So would yesterday earn me some points?”

“Oh, definitely. You’ve practically merited an angel status.”

This time I did genuinely laugh at the thought of me as an angel.

“But again, as for what’s considered sin… I don’t subscribe to the majority of what’s considered biblical canon.”

“You don’t have to continue with the disclaimers. I believe that you’re not judging my sinful ways.”

“Correction, I don’t believe that God themself is judging you for your sinful ways. I never said anything about my judgment of you.”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling at the smirk on his face. “I’m not at all surprised that you have a god complex. That seems about right –– you do come off like the type to be very judgmental.”

“I’m notoriously difficult to impress,” Edward half-smiled. “Are we continuing this conversation in Biology, or are you growing tired of the dark and the heavy?”

“Not yet,” I answered. “But I overheard that we have a pop quiz, so you’ll have to save your pretty boy disciple thoughts for later.”

He chuckled as I stood up from the table, reaching to grab my untouched lemonade bottle and cap to throw away, then stopped me.

“I’ve got it,” Edward placed the bottle on his tray to dump into the garbage. I watched curiously as he pocketed the bottle cap.

“I’d say thank you, but I know you’re only trying to win points in the eyes of God.”

“Anything to get into heaven,” he laughed.

* * *

y’all know i had to make edward a lil christian boy. u know edward is the i wanna church girl who go to church… and reaaaad her biiiible vine. i do want to clarify again… unlike stephenie mormon, i have no agenda in speaking about religion in this fanfic. i’m not particularly fond of labels, but i am more agnostic than anything so… i’m not tryna convert anybody to anything. it just seemed very “classically edward” as rosalie would say.

i hope u enjoyed! i also wanted to say i really, really appreciate the comments! i haven't replied bc... i'm shy but i read them & truly feel very flattered. ♡

#equinoxjw #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight au #twilight #midnight sun #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

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Stay Here Tonight - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)

100 Sentence Challenge Request @mandy23b @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad (If it works this way I’ll keep it in mind for future! Sorry guys! Tumblr is a mess!)

Gerry + 6 - ‘I need a place to stay’ Not that I ever looked for an excuse to use this gif but @zsaszette78 gave me one 😁 Thank you for requesting! Author’s Note: Gerry has once again not survived being the subject matter of projection and ...well I guess self reflection? I don’t know what it is about him that makes it so easy? But it get’s you and me some good content! And here we are!

Goodnight n Go - Ariana Grande Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind and characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gif not

Premise: When Gerry comes to your town to catch up with Curtis, there’s nothing he would like more than to pay you a visit. When it becomes a little too late in the evening, you seize an opportunity...

Words: 1870

Warnings: Small swears

______ Tell me why you gotta look at me that way You know what it does to me So baby, what you tryna say? Oh, why'd you have to be so cute? It's impossible to ignore you, ah Why must you make me laugh so much? It's bad enough we get along so well Just say goodnight and go One of these days You'll miss your train and come stay with me (It's always say goodnight and go) We'll have drinks and talk about things And any excuse to stay awake with you And you'd sleep here, I'd sleep there But then the heating may be down again (At my convenience) We'd be good, we'd be great together I know how you want it, baby, just like this Know you're thinking' 'bout it, baby, just one kiss While you're lookin' at 'em, baby, read my lips I know what you want, but you can't have this

---

It wasn’t very often that Gerry came to visit you. Not because he didn’t want to - rather, both of you were often busy. But, Curtis was back in town and Gerry had driven up here to catch up with his good friend. It’d been a little while since their jaunt across the Mississippi to win big, so they had a lot of catching up to do. Still Gerry had called you, before he even had it solidly booked with Curtis, joyful:

“Y/N!” “Gerry-!” You couldn’t help smiling, it was so good to hear his voice. You caught up on the phone often. And it wasn’t to say you hadn’t met up a few times. You both liked each other - that much was obvious. But it was distance. And he’d all but admitted that himself. So it’d never really gone anywhere - one day it’d work, you were sure. One day Gerry would admit to himself that it didn’t matter... heck you had a friend living in NYC in a long-distance relationship with someone in LA. It might have been a drive from him to you, but it was pretty much next door in comparison to that. “It’s good to hear from you!” You said like you didn’t end up in 4-hour conversations, staying up nearly all night when you really should know better, every time one of you called. The way he laughed every time you said it making your cheeks pink, “It’s great to hear your voice, Y/N…! Guess what? I’m coming to you! I don’t know when yet, I’ll keep you updated! But Curtis is in town so, I’m gonna head up to see him. It’d be awesome to see you again, too.” “Well when you have a firm date let me know - I’ll be free.” “You sure?! I mean, I don’t want you waiting around for me to figure this out with him...” “Gerry, honey, I’d clear my calendar for you, you know that.” He very nearly giggled, “Yeah... yeah I guess I do.”

So he did keep you updated as to when Curtis finalised the date, and then promised that as soon as he had finished there, he’d come see you. As you might expect, the two of them hung out nearly all day and well into the evening. You guessed they had way more to catch up on, considering they hadn’t seen each other since the trip ended - before you finally received a knock on the door. Which you opened probably a little more enthusiastically than you should have. “Hey!” “Hey! Y/N!!” Gerry lit up immediately and accepted your hug with a bashful little smile, “How you doing?” “Good-! Great! So much better!” That bashful look was now accompanied by a light blush in the knowledge that it was him that’d caused it. “That’s nice to hear...” He followed you back into your house and you offered him a drink “Coffee, is probably a good idea.” “He’s not had you out at casinos, has he?” Considering how well Gerry was doing, the last thing you wanted was for Curtis to drag him back. “Oh, no, no! Seeing the sights.” You scoffed at that, as if there were any around here. “Would you like something to eat, sweetie?” “Oh! No! You don’t need to, thank you! We did go to a restaurant.” You nodded, glad that Curtis was at least taking care of him. You would have found the guy and slapped him if he’d taken Gerry anywhere near a table.

You sat and held hands as you talked, like you were in love. Because you were - it was everything but a relationship. In reality you had barely spent enough time with him to say such a thing. But you’d talked SO often, and for so long that you knew him and he knew you. Maybe better than anyone else, he was so easy to talk to – you’d told Gerry things you’d never said to another soul. It didn’t seem like such a strange thing to say that you were in love...

You just wished something would happen that could allow him to see that it’d all work out.

It was funny how as soon as you thought that his eyes flicked to your clock. The conversation was long from over, but he gasped in shock. “Is that the time-!?” You glanced over your shoulder; very nearly midnight. “Oh! God I... I gotta get...” Gerry faltered and you turned back to him, “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you drive all the way back at midnight! It’s Saturday, you don’t need to work tomorrow, right? His eyes made their way back to yours and they were wide. “It’s so late!” Gerry covered his face for a moment, hand slipping from yours for the first time since he’d placed it there upon his realisation, “Oh shit! I have nowhere to stay!” His exhale was hard; “…I need a place to stay.” You sat in stunned silence for a minute - because if ever the chance to do something was staring you right in the face, it was now. And you realised you had to say something before he got the bright idea to check into a hotel and you missed it.

Taking his hands back in yours, you gave him your sweetest smile, “Gerry, it’s okay, you can stay here.” His eyes somehow got wider, and he spluttered through his reply; “Oh-! No, no! I wouldn’t want to trouble you-!” “You’ve seen the hotels around here right? I wouldn’t trust ‘em. And I’d be worried.” You gave him your best pleading look. Gerry blushed again, but his smile was adorable as he warmed a little to the idea. “Well, I wouldn’t want that.” “Mhm... I mean it would be the couch, as a sofa bed but it’s better than-” “Y/N...” He pulled your hand and kissed your knuckles delicately enough to have you blushing along with him, “it’s okay. I’ll be fine - I can survive on a couch for a night!”

*** You didn’t sleep. Heck, you couldn’t sleep. You’d just about manage to stop thinking for long enough to forget that you weren’t meant to be thinking on the fact that Gerry was asleep on your couch, and then your heart started beating on overdrive again. It was so unreal to you that this was actually happening. Even though he was downstairs and you were here, all you could think about was running down there and wrapping him in your arms. What it might feel like to have his around you. Well – you knew what that felt like, he’d hugged you before. In this context, though? You let your mind run away with you, and suddenly it was going from getting kisses and cuddles, to what would it be like for him to lie beside you and hold you every night, to thoughts not so innocent at all – which you almost slapped yourself for, before the inevitable dressing in white scenario popped into your head. The dream indeed. You just about managed to halt yourself firmly there. Hell, you weren’t in a relationship yet, you couldn’t start thinking about walking down an aisle to him. Your eyebrows furrowed at your own thoughts for a moment – and you realised that you felt incredibly guilty for him, for these thoughts running around your head. Maybe you wanted him too much. That’d cause problems of its own. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, attempting to close your eyes again, no – best to bury all that. If you wanted it to become a reality, you couldn’t think on it, or risk forcing it to happen too fast. ** You must have got a little bit of sleep because the next thing you knew it was light outside. Although your alarm clock alerted you to the fact that it was still the small hours of the morning. You stayed in bed, unable to get yourself to drift off again you didn’t want to rise and wake him already. Eventually you found tossing and turning up here was no good – and it would be more practical for you to just start your day. And the day didn’t start much better than with your favourite hot drink. You tried to keep quiet and to yourself in the kitchen until you heard him shuffling around, turning instinctively at the sound of his yawn and groan through his stretch. You couldn’t help but smile, turning your coffee maker on; you knew how to make his favourite by now. You knocked on the living room door before you entered to see him curled up on the sofa rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Morning.” You’d never heard his morning voice, and right now it was giving you the good kind of shivers. “Good morning, I’ve put coffee on…” You smiled sweetly, “Did you sleep well?” “Yeah! Comfiest couch I think I’ve ever slept on!” You both laughed, before Gerry returned your question, “Did you sleep well?” “Uh, I’ve had better evenings but – I’ll be fine. I’m just glad you’re okay. You’ve got a long drive home…” You paused, unsure of what to say next – a little unusual considering the relationship you shared. Before you giggled nervously, feeling yourself blush, “Right-! Coffee-!” You skipped back into your kitchen and he called after you; “Y/N!” “Mhm??” “I could always drive back a little later if you wanted to do anything today?” You bit your lips together and resisted punching the air in celebration; “Y-Yeah! That’d be nice!” You collected Gerry’s cup and walked back to him, holding it out. “That should make the morning better!” “Oh I dunno, you’re here aren’t ya?” You only laughed again, clasping your hands in front of yourself to watch him; once again you found yourself unable to think of anything to say. You had probably done this to yourself by overthinking last night. Just another reason you shouldn’t have. Gerry took a too hot gulp of coffee that he didn’t mind and set his cup down, hand outstretched to you. “What?” “C’mere.” “Gerry?” “I can’t watch you stand around staring at me, c’mere!” You were a little unsure as you took his hand, but he pulled you down into the comforter with him and wound his arms around you, nuzzling your face for a moment. “There, better, right?” You knew you were bright red – but beaming. And looking into his eyes you had to admit he was right, “Much.” “That’s what I thought.” Gerry smiled himself, pressing a kiss gently to your forehead, “Now, about today…” So you sat cuddled up on your couch with coffee and discussed what you were going to do for the rest of the day. It felt good to be in his arms; comfortable to be the way you were right now. Maybe this was how you were meant to be together – how things were supposed to be between you right now. You found yourself suddenly smiling – if that were true, then you had to enjoy this while you had it. Dreaming was for later; reality was good right now. All that mattered, all you knew, was that you couldn’t lose this.

---

4/16 down! Thank you so much for reading! 💙

#Stay Here Tonight is the song I was going to originally use but.... decided not to.#Then decided to keep the title!#Gerry #Mississippi Grind #Gerry x Reader #Ben Mendelsohn #154 #Why does he handle projection so well?#Like I... I don't get it either-!#I guess I just went /I started so I'll finish/#/Start as you meant to go on!!/#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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You’ve Got A Friend In Me || Ariana and Winston

When: just before the 12th of June. Who: @letsbenditlikebennett & @danetobelieve Where: At Ulfric’s Trailer Summary: Ariana and Winston clear through some of Celeste’s old belongings. Warnings: this is all about Celeste so sibling death tw

While Ulfric had done a good job of at least getting Celeste’s things immediately out of sight, Ariana had still been dreading going through it. She knew there were things she’d want to hold on to and things that needed to go, but actually doing, sorting through each individual thing would be opening up a fresh wound over and over. It was why she was grateful when Winston offered to help. Not having to do it on her own made the task seem a little more bearable. Nothing would completely take away the sinking feeling in her chest, but even a little light was enough of a reason to push forward. This made things final and more real in a sense. There was no running from what happened, so she had to face it head on with a good friend by her side. She heard the quiet hum of their car pulling into the driveway and lifted herself off the floor. The door was open as Winston was walking up the way and she offered a weak smile. Not forced, but still not reaching her cheeks as it normally did. She offered a hand when she realized they were carrying iced coffees and snacks, too. “Hey, Winston,” she greeted, “Thanks for helping with this. It really does mean a lot to have you here with me. The iced coffee definitely doesn’t hurt either.”

Shopping for snacks was one of Winston’s skills. They had long ago honed in one the best that the supermarket aisles of White Crest had to offer. They knew the best places to go if you needed doughnuts, cookies, pizza, coffee. For a town this size the variety in snacking opportunities were diverse. But sometimes, you couldn’t beat the basics. Pulling up in the drive, Winston stepped out of the car and grabbed a rucksack which they had stuffed full with every imaginable variety of snacks. Scooping up the iced coffees, Winston moved up to meet her. “Hey, no problem, I’m happy that I can be here to help.” They reached over to pass them their drink before slipping in through the front door. “I’ve got the whole weekend if you need it, we can go at whatever pace and even if we get nothing done it’s not the end of the world, we’ve got other weekends.” Hopefully. Almost in response to that fear, the eyelid on their palm itched and Winston had to stop themselves from touching it.

Ariana stepped aside and took a long sip from her iced coffee as she let Winston into the trailer. It was obvious they came prepared with more goodies than they could have possibly needed, but she appreciated them all almost as much as she appreciated their endless patience and understanding. When they spoke and explained that they could take their time, the tears that pinched at the edge of Ariana’s eyes weren’t for Celeste. She couldn’t believe she had such a good friend in her life. She had so many good friends in her life at this point, but Winston was her first real friend she made here. The first person she told she was a werewolf and someone she knew she could always turn to. With all the moving around, she’d never really gotten a chance to form this close of a friendship with someone. It left her feeling both overwhelmed and grateful all at once. She nodded slowly, gesturing toward the counter so Winston could set some of the snacks down. Once their hands were free, she set her own coffee down and gave them a hug. She buried her head in their chest for a moment, finding comfort in the family prattle of a heartbeat and their scent. She pulled away and said,”I think I’m ready to tackle this. Helps that I’m not doing it alone.” She led the way back to the room the girls had shared. She pulled out some duffle bags from the closet and boxes that had been stashed under the bed. She let out a sigh as she looked at them and took a seat on the floor, grabbing her iced coffee hoping it’d give her more energy to do this. “There’s just too many reminders in here right now. I know one day I’ll want to remember, but right now it feels weirdly suffocating and empty at the same time. This just,” she paused, taking a deep breath, “It sucks. She should be here. She didn’t--” She cut herself short, breath hitching in her throat. Nope, it was way too soon into this process to get emotional. “Right, uhm, any books are yours to keep. You’ll get more use of them than I would.”

As Winston set their treasure trove of goodies on the counter of the trailer, they found themselves enveloped in a hug. Pulling Ariana in as tightly as they could, they held her until she pulled away and looked down at her giving her a small smile. “You’re not going to be alone through any of this, me, Ricky, Rio, Blanche, everyone else, we’ve all got your back through this.” Winston couldn’t imagine how difficult this would have been for her. Losing a loved one was hard, Winston could tell from first hand experience that was far too recent for their liking. Although now that they were going to get Bea back it was less of a worry for Winston, but it did only drive them to be more determined to help Ariana through this. “Well, we’ve got storage space if you want to give me some boxes to keep out of sight for a while, at least until you’re ready to see them again.” Winston hadn’t checked with their roommates but they knew that they wouldn’t mind. After all it was the very least that they could do to help her. “Everything about this is so violently unfair and difficult,” Winston put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze before squatting down next to the pile of books and raising an eyebrow, “Uh, thanks, I’ll look through them later and donate any that I don’t want, what’s the best place for me to start?”

If there was anything that kept Ariana pushing through the thick waves of pain that came and went with grief, it was the fact she truly did have so many people who loved her and were looking out for her. She’d found all she ever wanted in White Crest-- that found supernatural pack that fought and cared for each other through thick and thin. It just still felt wrong that Celeste wasn’t here for it. “I know I’m not. Everyone, especially you, have been really-- well, you’ve been here. Continue to be here and let me just feel my way through it,” she weakly smiled and looked down at the bags in front of her. She nodded along with Winston’s offer, feeling a small bit of relief that if she didn’t get through everything today, she could at least have it out of sight for a little bit. “I may take you up on that depending on how much of it we get through.” She opened up one of the bags in front of her, which primarily seemed to be assorted photos as well as some important documents. The photo on top had been one of her and Celeste when she was about five years old. It was at some playground back in Washington and she was hanging from the monkey bars. She looked at it, remembering just how fun the day had been, with her eyes already watering up slightly. She set it down, figuring this whole bag was a keep bag so it could be shoved back in the closet. “You’re right,” she said softly, “It’s not.” The next bag she pulled out was mostly clothes, easy enough to go through. “If you could help me pick anything out of here that’s not black, white, brown, yellow, or blue-- that’d be great. I can wear most of it, I’ll donate the rest,” she explained before noting, “I think all her books outside of a novel or two are on different supernatural species.”

“No one can expect you to feel anything other then what you’re feeling right now and I can’t begin to understand what that is, but I want to help however I can.” Winston’s heart had broken that night that they had seen Celeste drop to the floor with a knife in her chest. Winston couldn’t imagine what Ariana must be feeling. She had lost so much and if there was anything that they could do then they would. “We can see how it all goes,” Winston knew that they would probably take a bit more time doing this then they normally would with anything or anyone else. Raising an eyebrow gently as Winston sifted through the pile of clothes that they had been given pulling a few items to one side and the rest to the other. “Wow, we could definitely add those to the library, which you need to remind me to show you, even if you’re not going to really read anything it’s just really cool. It’s this old building that is kind of falling down, me and Rio have been working on it for a while, we’re slowly digitising this library from this old group of people called the Scribes and they had a lot of knowledge stored there, so that would actually be a really great addition and that way it could help other people instead of you know, just me. I’ll obviously keep the originals but digital versions of everything would be great as well I just have to do some photo copying.”

When everything had first happened, Ariana had been worried that Winston would see her differently. They hadn’t known about the supernatural for all that long and she had turned into a wolf and mauled a man in front of them. She wouldn’t have been able to blame them if they were a bit frightened of her after the fact. It seemed her worries were unfounded because Winston had been offering support throughout it all. They knew Adrian Aquilla had deserved what she’d done and worse. They knew her world felt like it was falling apart and they were here every step of the way to help pick up the pieces. “You’re right,” she agreed. However far they got along today was progress. While going through a bag that had most of her weapons, Ariana perked up at the mention of a library that seemingly had information on the supernatural. While reading wasn’t her thing, that sounded helpful as fuck considering where they lived. “A library? Yeah, I definitely want to check it out. If it’s digitized, I can usually put it through a text to voice thing so I can understand it better. That’s super fucking cool you guys are doing that though. Celeste would be happy to have some of her books contributing.” She set aside the hunting knife she knew was Celeste’s favorite and knew she’d keep that one for herself. Kaden could have most of the rest. All of her arrows could be Layla’s. She turned to Winston, “Think any of you would want one of her hunting knives? I usually carry one on me for runs because White Crest be like that sometimes.”

Pausing for a moment, Winston considered the predicament that they all currently found themselves in. It was hard not to crumble under the terrifying weight of all of this but Winston wasn’t going to allow something as heartbreaking as this to tear them apart. They’d made it through the worst, they had to have made it through the worst. If they hadn’t made it through the worst then they didn’t know what they were going to be able to do to cope in the future so they had to believe it was going to now get better. “Yeah, I mean, parts of it are digitized, it is a pretty time consuming process but we make progress every week, what we have got should be compatible with various types of accessibility software, we’ve been really careful to try and make it as easy to use as possible because some of the books are super old and we don’t want just anyone going through the originals. The amount of times I’ve almost spilled coffee on a hundred year old leather bound tome is humiliating.” Winston laughed gently and shrugged. “Uh, I don’t really carry a knife …” or any weapon other then the gadgets they were tinkering with at the time, “but I can check if the others want one, I could always hang the knife on wall or something too…” Taking one of Celeste’s weapons felt wrong and Winston wasn’t sure that they were the right person to offer this to.

Focusing on Winston’s words was much easier for Ariana than paying attention to the pangs of pain that kept hitting with every object she picked up. Everything still smelled like her and part of her wanted that to never fade. That familiar floral smell that always had a hint of lemon to it. While it had always been comforting before, the threat of it fading away left her heart thudding against her chest erratically. Library. Books hundreds of years old. Not spilling coffee on them. Making them accessible. Noble cause not that she’d expect anything less from Winston. “That’s pretty fucking cool. With all the weird shit that happens here, having some references to help figure things out is definitely good. May save us all from impending doom one of these days. Buy us some time before the mimes kill us all,” she chuckled softly even though she wouldn’t actually be shocked if the town was destroyed by mimes. It wasn’t surprising that Winston wasn’t really one to carry knives around. She’d probably just hold on to them for now. Part of her wanted to give them to Kaden since he and Celeste had been close, but she was hesitant. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if he used them on another wolf as much as she wanted to trust that he wouldn’t. Maybe Nell, she was short and feisty. Plus her and Bea had helped them out. Then again, Kaden had tried to as well. Ugh. She had enough to worry about without trying to be a hunter’s fucking keeper. “Nah, I think I know someone who may actually use them. I’ll just set them aside for now.” They could easily be stowed under the bed and Ariana didn’t feel inclined to think on that one for much longer. She shoved them under the bed and grabbed a box she had in the corner of the room. “Any clothes in the throw away pile can go in here. Figured I could donate them or something… well, besides the ridiculous Al’s uniform.”

“Honestly, finding that library was one of the best things that had happened to me in the last few months, the amount of information that it has allowed me to find and that information has helped me help other people,” Winston ran a finger through their short hair and shrugged, “it’s really cool, I’d love to give you a tour one day if you wanted.” Winston trusted Ariana implicitly. “Just, keep it on the downlow, we don’t want too many people to find out about it just in case the wrong sort of people decides to use it for the wrong sort of research.” Winston was sure that the old scribe library would have more then dangerous information that was not something they wanted the public to have access to. Either way, the conversation seemed to be helping to distract Ariana. Winston couldn’t imagine how intense this must be for her. Being in a room filled with memories and reminders of what they had lost. “I can run them down to the local thrift stores or whatever, my mom probably has some charity that her book club is collecting for or some church drive or something that would love to take them.” Winston paused, “Also, I may have been talking to my parents about you and they want you to come over for dinner … if that’s cool?”

“I’m glad you found it then. I’m sure it helps with trying to make sense of the whole supernatural world thing. I’m not even new to the supernatural and some of the stuff that happens here is wild even for me,” Ariana responded as she sorted through shoes. They were able to share shoes so she put the pairs she liked back into the closet as she went. Having Winston here definitely made this easier. While the sadness never completely faded away, she was able to enjoy Winston’s company despite it. They made it easier to not hone in on how every single memento made her feel. She could listen to them and feel a bit more at ease. “You got it, definitely don’t want the wrong person finding it and using it to try and destroy the town… or make more mimes. Did I ever tell you I actually broke into Yours, Mime, and Ours?” She didn’t think she did, since they’d been so adamantly against the idea when she mentioned it, but hey, she was alive and not arrested. At the mention of Winston taking the clothes to donate for her, she felt herself relax a little bit. Once less thing to do with all of this. They really were doing so much to make this loss just a little bit easier to navigate. “If you could, that’d be great. That’s cool that your mom does those kinds of drives. It doesn’t surprise me that your mom is great though. I mean, look at how awesome you turned out,” she said, her smile fully reaching her eyes this time, “I’d love to meet your parents and you know how I feel about dinner. You’re like… the first real close friend I’ve gotten to have. It’d be super cool to see the people who raised you.”

“There is just so much for us to learn; or that we could learn and that library has all of this amazing knowledge in there. It’s like the library in season two of Avatar the Last Airbender just minus a giant owl and if you say that you don’t know what that is then I definitely have our next show we’re binge watching together.” Winston was hoping that anything would distract Ariana. Being there for her wasn’t hard. Actually helping her was an entirely different story. They just hoped that one day their new friend could grow from this, but losing Celeste would’ve been difficult for anyone. “No, you didn’t tell me, but I did too, you have any run in with that creepy mime monster that they’ve got lurking around there?” Winston hadn’t thought about mimes in almost a few months at this point. Seemed kind of absurd that they had been such an issue for a hot second there. “I don’t know if my parents are planning on anything special or anything, but I’ll let them know that you’re happy to come around and we will organise a time, I’m sure they’ll end up inviting Ricky and Orion too. If you think that you love Ricky then you haven’t met my mother yet. She treats him better then her own kids.” Winston grinned at that, obviously a lie but it didn’t matter, Ricky was family.

Confusion was apparent on Ariana’s features as Winston spoke of that Avatar show. She’d heard of it, but she really hadn’t done too much in the way of watching television shows. When she did they were typically cooking shows or some home project show on HGTV. That was when they had cable at that, which hadn’t been very often as she was growing up. Streaming made it a little easier, but she’d never been able to sit still for long. Well, at least not before all of this. Grief had a way of immobilizing even the most energetic of people as she recently learned. “Looks like we have a new show to binge watch then because I’ve never seen Avatar. I trust you either have it on DVD or know exactly what streaming service it’s on,” she said with a laugh. They were an unlikely pair, but she did enjoy learning about the things that excited Winston. It was definitely preferred to the memories that came flooding back as she pulled out Celeste’s roller skates. She sat there for a moment, staring at them and remembering last summer that they’d spent in California. She could still see Celeste on the boardwalk with a sprinkle covered ice cream cone in hand, laughing over some dumb joke Ari had told. They’d been on the run even then, but somehow that day had seemed more carefree. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and blinked a few times, “Yeah, there was no weird mime monster, did have to fight my mime clone though. Bitch turned into a wolf and everything. The wolf had stripes and wore a beret and honestly I’m still offended by it.” She didn’t tell the story with the same enthusiasm she usually did, but she found it more difficult to muster that kind of hype when she wasn’t feeling it. A shadow of a grin did come back to her face as they talked about going to their parents’ home. “Honestly, how could anyone not love Ricky? Whatever we do, I’m sure it’ll be nice. I look forward to meeting them.”

Winston smirked, “Great, we can watch legend of Aang and then legend of Korra. That’s like several seasons of good wholesome enjoyable content. You’ll dig it. It takes a while to get going but you know, we’ll get there eventually and you’ll realise that you’re viewing literal art.” Raising an eyebrow as Ariana discussed her excursion to the mime cafe, Winston chewed on their lip and sighed. “Well, all things considered with the mimes I guess that it could be worse, I had to deal with a mime version of me too.” That wasn’t one of Winston’s fondest memories and despite the fact that it had been a little more then a month ago, it felt almost as if it had been years since that had all happened. Weird how things change like that. Everything had changed. Bea. Celeste. Everything. “Don’t worry about it, a lame knock off mime version of you wouldn’t hold a flame to you. You’re one of a kind. Can’t be copied and replaced.” Winston really meant it. They just hoped it was enough. Honestly, the thing with grief is that sometimes it could feel like a tide that swells and constantly washes you away from the shore. It always feels like a losing battle until it doesn’t. “I only have a single condition that you must agree to before I arrange this.”

While Ariana didn’t really understand the shows they were talking about, she was sure she’d figure it out as they watched. Plus, wholesome content was exactly what she needed right now. “You got a deal. We’ll be binging Avatar and is Korra the same thing? Are they different? You’re like speaking another language right now that I still need to learn.” She kept sorting through odds and ends she pulled out of the closet, not really wanting to concentrate on the feelings each individual item brought up. It wasn’t easy, there was still this void inside of her screaming that all of this was just too much. Nothing would ever just fill the spot Celeste had played in her life, but she reminded herself that didn’t meant her life was as empty as it felt. Hell, Winston was right here by her side, through the thick of it all, doing what they could to make things a little bit easier. “Yeah,” she agreed, “It sounds like a lot of people had to confront their mime twins which is just weird, but you’re right, definitely could’ve been worse. I only got a little bit scratched up and to be honest, the scars look pretty badass.” Her hand ran over her side and she frowned slightly as she remembered Celeste patching her up. Ugh. Why did everything have to remind her of what she’d lost? Not that she wanted to forget Celeste, she just wanted a little bit of peace. Though Winston’s words did bring a small grin to her face. “Likewise, there’s only one Winston Dane and no one could ever replace them.” Her eyebrow arched up at Winston’s mention of agreeing to a condition. She was intrigued and asked, “What’s the condition?”

“Okay, the concept of Avatar is that there are people who can control the elements, they call them benders. The avatar can control all four elements and is reincarnated in a cycle. So Legend of Aang is about the avatar called Aang and Korra is the sequel about … you guessed it, the avatar named Korra.” Winston loved the show and was very excited to show Ariana it. Hopefully it would be another wholesome distraction. As they worked, Winston tried to put themselves in Ariana’s shoes. But the idea of losing a sibling wasn’t something that they could cope with, Celeste in so many ways had been more then just a sibling for Ariana and the pain that their friend was experiencing wasn’t something Winston could comprehend. “The scars definitely look badass,” Winston agreed. They were sure that by the end of this year they would all be covered in an entirely new set of scars. But for now they were safe and that was what mattered. They’d keep taking care of Ariana as best they could. “When my mother tries -- and I guarantee she will -- when she tries to bring out the photo albums, you must rapturously and vigorously deny her the opportunity because I can’t live through another night of those.”

“Okay, that actually does sound pretty dope. I’m not usually super into TV, but it sounds like a good story. Plus, hanging out with you makes anything more fun,” Ariana responded with a real smile this time. If there was one thing that gave her the strength to keep going, it was how much love and support she had in her life. The future still felt like a giant question mark, but she had so many reasons to keep pushing forward through all the grief, uncertainty, and anger. Even just being here and talking with her made this task that had seemed so daunting before a little bit easier. She’d only teared up a little so far and they’d gotten through a lot of Celeste’s things. The one benefit of being on the run is they always had to leave possessions behind. With a small laugh, she said, “Scars definitely have that effect. Helps that I’m already a badass, too.” At the mention of photo albums, Ariana cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly. “I’m supposed to say no to seeing photos of little Winston? I don’t know, that’s really asking for a lot, especially because I definitely want to see those photo albums.”

“You’ll like it, I promise you that I would never recommend something that you wouldn’t enjoy.” Winston grinned gently. TV recommendations was one of their few strong suits. Besides, supporting Ariana through this was something Winston could try and do. They would need to help her make a new family here, even if it hadn’t been the same as when it was just her and Celeste, they could still make this safe for her. This could still be her home. “You were always a badass,” Winston agreed solemnly. “Yes, because if you don’t say no or if you go and then look at the albums then all of my … coolness will well and truly disappear and you will realise that I am actually pretty lame, and gaslighting you into thinking that I’m cool is like the only thing that I’ve got going for me at the moment and I don’t know if I’m ready to lose that.”

There was little doubt in her mind that Ariana would enjoy the show, especially if it also meant more time spent with one of her closest friends. Now that the daunting task of going through Celeste’s things had been mostly done, Ariana felt a huge weight being lifted off her shoulders. Winston had helped her carry it and she couldn’t have been more careful. The sadness was unavoidable and she knew she’d always miss Celeste, but how much support she had left her confident she could learn to redefine what her future would hold and what happiness meant. She smirked at the mention of being badass, “Always have been and always will be.” Her tone still sounded tired and run down, but there was a hint of playfulness to it that showed she was moving through. She shook her head, “Mmm sounds fake. I’d never think you’re lame. You’re supportive, kind, honest, and smart as hell. Even if you are a nerd, I still think you’re cool.”

Raising an eyebrow gently at Ariana’s kind words, it took them by surprise that despite everything that was going on she could still have the capacity to care for them in her own special way. Winston knew that there was a reason that they had become such good friends, despite the age difference and the differences in upbringing and life experience, Ariana had quickly become like a younger sister to them. More then that she had become one of their closest friends. “You’re really kind supportive honest and smarter then hell, plus you’re not a nerd, so … you win.” Winston winked playfully and finished off their box. They’d been at this for awhile and honestly WInston was exhausted. They weren’t sure how Ariana was feeling but taking a break wouldn’t be a bad idea. “How are you doing on your end? You want to go take a snack break or something?”

Ariana couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh. “Fine, fine, if you insist, I win. That just means you’re even cooler for having the dopest friend around.” She playfully nudged their arm and finished off the box she was working on. They’d gotten through most everything, so she more than welcomed the suggestion of a break. She wasn’t sure how she would have made it through so much of Celeste’s stuff without them. The easy going conversation kept her mind from being 100% tuned in on the crushing feeling each little memory brought her. Winston was a damn good friend and she would make a point to always be just as supportive. “A break sounds like a good idea. We’ve got some frozen pizzas in the kitchen. Wanna heat a couple up and watch some of that Avatar show you were talking about,” she asked. With Winston’s approval, she threw some of the pizzas in the oven before joining them on the couch and handing the Roku remote to Winston. She cozied up with one of the blankets she had laid out on the couch and let herself relax a bit. Today had been draining though now that it was done, she felt a bit lighter. Like maybe tomorrow would be a little bit easier.

#you've got a friend in me #wickedswriting #p: ariana #chatzy #chatzy para #para #sibling death tw

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apparitionism · 5 years

Text

Hark 3

The new year has hit me pretty hard, work-wise, so I apologize to @kla1991 and everyone else (including @bering-and-wells-exchange ) for my lack of timely continuation. This is the third part of my attempt at a holiday story, which began its cacophony in part 1 and continued, similarly unharmoniously, in part 2. There’ll be a fourth-part denouement, delayed mostly because it concludes in a conversation that I want to make sing in a way that it’s not quite doing yet. Patience may or may not actually be a virtue, but it’s much appreciated all the same.

Hark 3

Myka took a similarly dark view of Pete’s next idea: “If mistletoe’s a no-go,” he said, “on account of this being one of these, how about we chuck an artifact that makes them sing? I’ll aim for Myka’s head, then Steve can rebound and hit H.G. Gotta be some karaoke something-or-other that’d do that, right?”

“That wouldn’t fix anything,” Leena said, like she knew it for a fact. Myka wanted to ask her not “what else do you know,” but rather “do you know everything,” the answer to which was probably “yes, if you mean everything that’s relevant to this excruciating exercise.” Comforting, in its way. Also inconvenient, because it implied that part of the “everything” she knew was that Myka and Helena would have to sing. Of their own volition.

Claudia said, “Even though I didn’t know there was a these—proving that nobody tells me anything, and I promise someday that’s coming back to bite all of you—and even though Pete doesn’t want me on his artifact-ball team—”

“Steve’s taller,” Pete said.

“And that’s coming back to bite you too. Someday. But for now, I’m gonna be the magical elf who fixes it. H.G., what’s the lesson of A Charlie Brown Christmas?”

“Children are not immune from existential despair,” Helena said immediately.

Myka resented how endearing she found that.

Claudia sighed and said, “Why are you always right, but not like I want you to be?” Myka resented how true she found that. Claudia went on, “Okay, smarty, what’s another lesson?”

“One’s so-called friends are likely to scorn one’s attempts to celebrate the season.”

Not quite as endearing. Still right.

“But eventually they come around,” Claudia pronounced. “C’mon, H.G. Be the Linus you wish to see in the world. Or I guess you should be the Linus everybody other than you, or you and Myka, wish to see? Anyway, my point is, what’s the true meaning of Christmas?”

Helena’s hands rose to her temples again as she said, “But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only.”

Myka said, “I’m pretty sure it starts ‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field.’” She tried to mitigate her knee-jerk know-it-all-ness by offering, weakly, “I mean, if you’re really being the Linus.”

“I think H.G.’s flaunting again,” said Steve.

“I am repurposing,” Helena said. “A verse from the Epistle of James, as a Christmas thing. Being the sole Victorian representative, I claim the privilege.”

“Also you’re a pretty committed flaunter,” Myka said, because it was the case—and that too was knee-jerk, for she did not bear in mind, for the split second she said it, the full situation they were in. She’d said it as a tease, and they were nowhere near safe teasing ground.

But Helena’s mood had shifted—possibly because of Charlie Brown reasons, which possibly meant that Claudia really was a magical elf—for she said, “True. And truce? For the length of a verse: together as doers of the word, and not hearers only.”

“Fine,” Myka grudged. “But only so Claudia quits looking at us like we stole Christmas. And I pity the hearers.”

“As do I,” Helena said, solemn.

Claudia passed her phone to Helena. Myka leaned to read with her the words of the next verse. They both inhaled, looked at each other, and said “you start” at the same time. After a chorus of “geez,” “come on,” and similar from the annoying people who could actually sing (and who thus weren’t about to make fools of themselves), they gave up and got on with it.

And so they together submitted, in Wenceslasment:

“O dilecta domina, cur sic alienaris? An nescis, o carissima, quod sic adamaris? Si tu esses Helena, vellem esse Paris! Tamen potest fieri noster amor talis.”

The ensuing silence was eloquent enough, but Pete put it into words: “That’s a wow from me. I had no idea anything could sound that bad. Start to finish, next-level awful.”

“Thanks,” Myka said.

“You’re welcome. Seriously, if that was ‘Good King Wenceslas,’ then I’m good King Wenceslas.”

“And yet I feel like that did it? Made it happy?” Steve said, and Leena agreed with him.

Claudia said, “So I guess we’re calling Pete ‘good King Dub’ from now on.”

“I’m into it,” Pete said, “and my first royal decree is, I want to know what they just made it happy singing—or I guess I mean ‘singing’—about. Somewhere in the scary noises I heard ‘Helena,’ so something’s up.”

Helena said, “I have Latin, and I would rather not say.”

“So do I,” Myka said. “And ditto.”

“But for the rest of the class.” Claudia grabbed her phone back. “Okay, here’s what some guy Symonds said it meant, way back in, wait for it, ye olde Victorian times.”

Helena startled: a tiny upturn of chin. “John Symonds?”

“Yeah. Know him?”

“Not well. Mutual friends... he was an advocate of so-called ‘Greek love.’”

Pete’s eyebrows rose. “Going to Greece to get all hey-hey? Like a vacation?”

“Not... precisely that. Although not not that, I imagine.”

Steve chortled. Then he schooled his expression and said, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for understanding such euphemisms. This sole representative appreciates it.”

Claudia, not to be deterred, said, “Oh, like he’s the only one who got it. But speaking of getting it, because whoever was singing about the time of flowers clearly wanted to.” She then intoned, “O my chosen one, why dost thou shun me? Dost thou not know, dearest, how much thou art loved? If thou wert Helen, I would be Paris. So great is our love that it can be so.” Hearing that diction in Claudia’s voice was strange... but she reverted to normal with, “That’s some business. You certainly do get around, H.G.”

“I am not Helen of Troy, thank you.”

“You sure?” Pete said. “I heard she was hot, just like you.” He bumped Helena in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Myka objected—about the shoulder-bump as well as the “hot.” But more the “hot.”

“She is though! And I thought so first.”

“You did not,” Myka said.

Helena said, “That sounds like a veiled offense.”

“I saw you before he did,” Myka told her. “And anyone who sees you...” She would have gone on, but her ears had begun to burn, a sure sign she was about to head into the “saying too much out loud” zone.

Helena blinked herself to understanding, and Myka was gratified that she seemed a little flustered too as she said, “Oh. Well. That is... complimentary.”

That first sight... Myka had not felt anything recognizable as love at that sight; rather, she’d felt a sense, something that she now considered a flutter from the future. Their first interaction, in its entirety, had made no sense at all, primarily on the obvious “H.G. Wells?!?” level, but also in its subterranean murmur, which Myka could not parse, could not even fathom, not until years later when she understood what her body had been trying to tell her. What it had decided it wanted.

Because she could not help herself, she had recently asked Helena a version of “What did you know and when did you know it?” Because the Helena of that earliest part remained an opacity, one about whom Myka was endlessly curious, and asking obliquely about desire rather than baldly about deception seemed a safer way in.

Helena gave the question some thought, making Myka glad she had asked, for being able to prompt Helena to real thought was a prize. “Something sparked for me when you said, ‘H.G. Wells is a woman. I’m going to have to process this.' Because of course I was myself working to ‘process’ that H.G. Wells was not a woman, if you can see at all what I mean.”

“Not quite,” Myka admitted.

“At that point I hadn’t entirely absorbed the history, the idea that Charles had so fully become... him. Me? That time had rendered any distance between Charles and... what I mean is, I had not ‘processed’ that I myself, as myself, would be so utterly forgotten.” She paused. “And then that you would... ‘process.’ That word, used as a verb of cogitation, seemed so deliberate, so new, so singular, as if you’d invented such usage solely as a response to me.”

Helena lied with great facility; Myka did know that about her approach to deception. This sort of hesitant, cautious talk usually connoted truth—here, a truth flattering to Myka. “I wish I had invented it,” she said. New usages, new words, an entirely new language; she should have realized that all of these would come to seem necessary. “And I’m sorry if this shouldn’t be true, but I’m perversely glad to have this secret knowledge. About you. As yourself.” That was a prize too—the luxurious exclusivity of her knowledge, her behind-the-velvet-rope version of H.G. Wells.

“That you are one of the few who do have it is so pleasing to me that I would write a novel about it.”

“I thought you supplied the research,” Myka said, trying to distract herself from the suddenly all-consuming idea that H.G. Wells, in whatever incarnation, had just mentioned writing a novel about something even vaguely related to Myka Bering.

“As if I couldn’t have written those books? I simply didn’t have the time, and Charles did. But I have already compiled extensive research regarding yourself—and your ability to process.”

Myka’s own clearest spark-point had occurred when Helena had looked her up and down—so very thoroughly up and down that Myka had felt that look as a full scan of her very self, a magnetic, resonant measure-taking. Helena hadn’t looked at Pete like that. Myka had clung to that look, had continued to cling to it, more tightly than she probably should have, when she was wishing inchoately but bodily for things she couldn’t let herself know she had decided she wanted.

So Myka said, in the interest of truth-telling, “That you checked me out was pretty pleasing too.”

Yet another prize: a playful “Is that what I did?”

“More thoroughly than anybody ever has.”

“Then it seems I have some secret knowledge of my own.”

“You do,” Myka said, and: “I’m glad it’s you.” Myka wanted no one else to know any of it. Her own velvet rope, behind which no one else.

“When does this end, exactly?” Pete asked. “Not that it isn’t fun.”

“When we’ve done enough,” Leena said.

“And when’s that?” Myka asked in turn. “Because it isn’t fun.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s when Claudia feels that we have.”

Claudia groaned out, “Did Mrs. Frederic have to do this kind of thing?”

Leena said, “I wouldn’t know. Now, are we finished yet?”

“Something about infotech,” Claudia muttered. She started walking.

“Narrows it down,” Steve said, and he followed her, disciple-like.

As did they all. They walked and walked.

“Really old infotech,” Claudia said, so they kept walking.

They passed early computers, including the wall-sized Harvard Mark I; telephones and the switchboards that linked them; calculators, slide rules, Napier’s bones; Babbage’s Difference Engine and Leibniz’s Machine. Claudia dismissed it all: “No, no, no,” she chanted. “None of this. Where are you, pesky upset tech?”

At last she halted. “Okay. You?” And in response to some response, she nodded. “This is it. “

It was a structure that looked like a modernist desk crossed with a medieval torture device. “Gutenberg’s printing press,” Myka breathed, in reverence—not that she needed to say it out loud. Well, maybe for Pete.

“Really?” he said, proving her point. “Pretty much the O.G. of infotech then.”

“Actually we passed a bunch of abaci,” she noted, “which are a lot older than—”

“Ix-nay,” Pete said. “This big fella clearly needs a little jog to the self-esteem. What’s its Christmas deal, though?”

Claudia said, “And so the overburdened Caretaker-in-training got her Wikipedia on one more time.”

“No need,” Helena told her. “This one, I know.”

“You’re certainly a more reliable source,” Myka said.

“It worked, professor,” Claudia said. “What’s the Yuletide word, other professor?”

“There is a cantata commemorating Gutenberg’s invention. Written by Mendelssohn, sometime midcentury? Mid my century, that is... the ‘Festgesang.’ Also known as the Gutenberg Cantata.”

Claudia said, “I think I know how this song goes, and by now everybody can sing it with me: the Victorians stole it for Christmas. Right?”

“Part of the melody, yes. To accompany a Christmas hymn known as ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.’ Do you—no. I was about to ask if you know it, but again we return to A Charlie Brown Christmas.”

“Everybody knows it,” Pete said.

“H.G., are you sure all of this song-stealing wasn’t you and your Warehouse 12 buddies?” Claudia asked. “Some super-secret Christmas-invention mission?”

Helena made a face. “Would I be surprised to learn that I had been manipulated into helping such a thing coalesce? Of course not. The Warehouse does enjoy the power generated by a holiday.”

Leena nodded. “Lots of belief. Collectively.”

I am so tired of belief, Myka thought.

“I hope we don’t have to sing whatever the German words are,” Steve said. “I took German in high school and nearly flunked out.”

“Learning lots of new things about you today, BFF,” Claudia commented. “Maybe this isn’t Caretaker practice at all; maybe it’s about us needing to get to know your whole big complicated sax-playing, Wenceslas-hating, German-flunking self. And since when are you a flunker?”

“Something about the word order made me nervous. Like I was always having to untangle what was true. My fault, obviously, not German’s, but I’ve got bad associations, so maybe we could just go with the carol?” He tried, in melodious English, “Hark, the herald angels sing,” then paused, waited. “It doesn’t seem to mind that too much. It isn’t placated yet, though.”

Leena said, “Maybe it doesn’t matter which words we sing.” She tried the next measure as a series of la-las, then stopped and considered. “That wasn’t bad either. I’m guessing it considers the melody Mendelssohn’s real tribute.”

“That’s funny,” said Pete. To multiples of “why,” he answered, “That a printing press doesn’t care about words.”

Helena laughed. “You make an excellent point,” she said. Then, to Myka, “Doesn’t he?”

“He... does,” Myka had to concede.

And in agreeing that Pete made an excellent point, they were, however improbably, pulled extremely close to accord. Myka was barely able to refrain from grasping Helena’s hand again, this time to deal with the depth of her relief that they had... “reconciled” was the word that came to mind, though that probably had more to do with the carol they either were or weren’t about to sing the English words of.

Then again, what was wrong with reconciling, as a word, or as a concept? And so she asked herself why she was refraining. No good answer occurred to her, so she did in fact firmly take Helena’s hand.

Helena didn’t smirk, didn’t eyebrow, didn’t even look at Myka. But she did grip back. Then she went on, with a newly rich note in her voice, “I do think I understand: the press wants it known that the melody was intended to bring glory to it, not to this set of words or that one. And certainly the conceptual majesty of the printed word outglories any newborn baby in a manger, regardless of that infant’s kingship.”

“You’re definitely not being religious now,” Steve said.

“The press brought the Bible to the people, so it has a case for primacy on that score as well.”

“But that baby in the manger saved humankind,” he protested.

Claudia snickered. “I like how nobody’s being religious. Supposedly.”

“We are discussing religion,” Helena starched out. “A different philosophical undertaking entirely.”

“Instead let’s discuss what to sing,” Leena said, “because we’ll be singing together this time. Should it be about the newborn king?”

Helena said, “Not to upset my discursive partner, but the original German is about Gutenberg himself as a sort of savior. His glorious bringing of light into the darkness via the press.”

“If we have to,” Steve said.

“Although,” Helena mused, “I suppose that to sing about Gutenberg’s actions would be to glorify him, rather than the press as such. Perhaps that’s why it doesn’t care about words.”

“How about we split the difference?” Myka offered.

“What’s the difference between an English carol and a German cantata?” Steve asked. “Sounds like a really esoteric riddle.”

Myka said, “Let’s sing the alphabet.” The resulting confused expressions indicated that her very-clear-to-her idea wasn’t quite the beacon of obviousness she’d thought. “Connects all the dots, don’t you figure? Because what’s movable type?”

Helena looked at her like she, Myka, was the one who’d brought light into the darkness. She raised Myka’s hand, which she still held, to her mouth and kissed it. “Lovely,” she said, and although Myka still didn’t exactly feel like singing, she did find herself in a much greater mood to make a joyful noise.

Once the singing—or “singing”—began, they all had different ideas about syllabication, none of which entirely joined into a full cantata-appropriate chorus, but they did end up on “X-Y-Z!” for “re-con-ciled” on their first march through the alphabet, then moved on to the “Joy-ful all ye na-tions ri-ise” part with a rousing “Ay-bee cee dee eee-eff gee-ee!” Everyone was laughing by the time they finished, and Leena said, “Unless I’m misinterpreting, the press is as delighted as we are.” Even Myka, untuneful as she knew she’d been, couldn’t stop grinning... and, as she regarded a similarly smiling Helena, she wanted to be pelted with mistletoe for the right reasons.

Claudia looked up and around, as if snow had begun to fall. She said, “And I think we’re done. Unless anybody’s still unthrilled?” She asked the question of the Warehouse in general, the air around them.

The air held motionless.

Myka said, “I’m still unthrilled that we had to do this at all. I don’t know how Santa feels about anything, but Pete’s on my naughty list.”

“Aren’t you, however?” Helena asked. “Thrilled, in some small part?” To be back in accord, the sparkle in her eyes said.

Well, all right, she was. “You’re taking advantage of how this feels like a holiday now.”

“In Pete’s defense, and my apologies for uttering that phrase, as well as the one that now follows: his intentions were good.”

“There is a road to a place,” Myka said, “and that road is paved. I won’t name the place, but I think you and I and people who had to listen to us sing were recently in its vicinity.”

“Myka. You just now said it feels like a holiday. And it is also now certain that we will never forget this, our first Christmas together.”

“I like how everyone always forgets that I will never forget anything,” Myka complained.

“But sometimes you don’t keep things top of mind,” Steve said, with his particular delicacy.

“You didn’t forget that?”

“I’m not you, but I was paying attention.”

Myka said, “I appreciate it,” and, noting an inquiring eyebrow from Helena, told her, “I’ll explain later.”

Helena nodded and dropped the eyebrow. She said, “So perhaps a more meaningful statement is that I will never forget this, our first Christmas together. And I am being religious, though only slightly, when I say that it all—having such a Christmas, having this somewhat ear-splitting memory—is a blessing.”

“I knew you’d be all sentimental about Christmas, H.G.!” Pete crowed. “I knew it! Which is I bet why the Messiah figured I’d be all into saving Christmas. And which, FYI, I’m still pretty sure I did, Mrs. and Mrs. Bickerson.”

“Please,” Leena said, “not the M-word.”

“Mrs.?” Pete asked, in obvious confusion. “Should it be ‘Ms. and Ms.’ instead? I don’t know how to be sensitive.”

“That’s the truest thing you’ve ever said,” Myka told him. “Pay attention! You’re the one who just made noise about what tapped you for doing this supposed saving.”

“Messiah!” he shouted, like she’d acted it out in charades.

“Well, that’s re-agitated the press a bit,” Helena said, and to the mechanism, she spoke a single word: “Hark.” That word, said by that voice, was at the same time arresting and soothing. Something to heed. “Or, if you prefer, ‘A’,” Helena offered. Also something to heed. Myka’s ears informed her, by way of further burning, that they would in fact listen avidly to Helena reciting the alphabet. That they would find her doing so to be both arresting and soothing and arousing as well. Not surprising, ears, she told them.

“Speaking of sensitive,” Leena said, “the press is.”

“Aren’t we all,” Claudia affirmed.

“It has more right,” Helena said. “No holiday stole Mendelssohn’s music about any of us.”

“He did score a Midsummer,” Myka said. It was one of the few Mendelssohn facts she knew. “So technically about a Helena.”

That made Leena laugh. “We’ll see what happens if anyone ever puts Christmas lyrics to it.”

Myka said, “I really don’t think she needs a lot of help getting agitated,” and Pete put on an expression of concern. “No, Pete, that’s not what I mean.” Then he grinned. “And that’s not either.”

“What we should encourage Pete to do next year, however, is complete his inventory in a timely fashion,” Helena said, and to Claudia, “A timely supervised fashion, hm?”

“Sorry,” Claudia said, seemingly sincerely. Then she perked up. “But we’ve got happy artifacts and that’s still next in the stack, so let’s go home and play!”

Back at the B&B, just before the playing of Sorry commenced, Myka whispered that word to Helena, with whom she was to play, as that team Claudia had proposed—seemingly forever, but really only hours, before. That word, “Sorry,” followed by “I really am.” Helena didn’t whisper it back, but she did murmur, “Don’t be.”

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #Hark #part 3 #kla1991 #bering and wells holiday gift exchange

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