#like. oh right yeah you're dead for reasons unexplained

[somecunttookmyurl]

windows updated and broke something and i seem to be the only person on planet earth with this problem

the screen snip button no longer works from the action centre. i can open it with shift+win+s. i can open the app directly from the start menu. clicking the button in the action centre does nothing

@bill what the FUCK did you do this time

all of the internet "here's how to fix your action center not opening!" no it's opening fine it's the screenshot button inside the action centre specifically that's not working. "screen snip missing from action center" no it's there i just can't open it. "screen snip won't open by shift-win-s shortcut" still no! still not the problem!

[rinbowaman]

RAEEEEE GUESS WHOS HERE ABOUT DT SUPER LATE🤩

Me😌

Im sorry BUT NOW IM GONNA START READING IT AND YOULL GET ALL MY LIVE REACTIONS🤭‼️

"Gently rubbing his fingertips along your skin, swaying them back and forth"

RAE😭😭 WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO USSSSS, pls pls take our well being into consideration 😔😔

“Good girl... you even know how to pronouce it correctly"

good girl? GOOD GIRL???? AND HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO WINK AFTERWARDS???? im done I cant with this guy

“Maybe….we’ll see.”

Maybe yes, hopefully not😌

“Night sweet thing.”

Boy im no object 🤨🤨 (but since its you saying it, I dont mind as much😋)

“Let us know if you need anything.”

You sir pls?🤯

Gazing at the message that you had just received, you saw that it was from Kurt, who expressed how good it was to see you again. “…Hmm…I wonder….” You mentally noted as you came up with an idea and messaged back.

No no pls dont "wonder" it usually ends bad😨

OMG IM LOOKING AT THE PICS YOU ADDED RN AND IM- SUISHSEESDDD let me suck your dick pls??? (Both)

“You would look so pretty in a wedding dress.”

THIS AND THE PICTURE UNDERNEATH IT????VBYXDGHHHHH, Heejeong does smh unexplainable to me😣

“Yeah?.....I beg to differ.”

SIR???? STOPPPP

“Hey, y/n. I’m finally here, sorry I missed the ceremony, but I’m glad I could make it in now.”

You missed the ceremony what else you here for boy?💀 also rae pls pls dont do what im think you're going to do pls pls dont

You had invited Kurt, as a manner to introduce him to the family since you had recently decided to give him a chance and accept his offer to begin a relationship

Bye.

WHYYYYY TELL ME WHYTYYY???????? I dont even know what to say🤯🤯

Im kurt number 1 hater #kurtkys #kurtleaveynalone #kurtpullasamuelsoicanhaveareasontohateyou

Im never forgiving you for this rae

"Im good Mrs....um..."

Bro doesn't even know the name of his girlfriends mother 💀💀 this is way worse then what samuel did I think I have reason to hate him now😌

Heejeong merely looked down at Kurt’s hand before glaring back up at him….then over to you.

YES BAE IGNORE HIS DIRTY HANDS WHO KNOWS IF HE EVEN WASHED THEM???😨‼️

"Nice to meet you. I’m Kurt.”

No one cares bro you can stop💀💀

You figured they were disappointed that you hadn’t told them about Kurt sooner

Nah babes they're mad bc they want to fuck you

"We’re dating.”

Im so done with y/n

"They were busy.”

Pls keep em busy🙏🏻🙏🏻

"It’s okay….” You bit your lip as you chuckled once more. Leaning in, you whispered out. “Should we try again?"

NO???? how about y'all DONT try again💀

"So..."

FINALLY OME OF MY BAES🤭🤭

"Come again?....”

Y/n bae in the nicest way possible, stfu🤗

"Nuh-uh. Come here, we need to have a little talk, you and I.”

Okay lets talk😋 OMG THE PICTURE????? IM DYING DJJDUDJEJD

“Shhh….come here…..COME HERE.”

Come here and get some~~

ANOTHER PICTURE???? *this user has died*

Okay ill continue dying after i finish this ask 🔥🔥

“Stop! This is wrong! You’re insane, get off!”

Dont stop! This is feels so right! You're not insane, dont get off**** sorry had to fix your typo😰😰

"Dont be like that…..haven’t I shown you kindness and affection?....Haven’t I shown just how much I ADORE you?”

BAE PLS PLS FORGIVE MY DEAR Y/N, SHES JUST BEING SILLY 🤗🤗

"Those are some pretty strong words princess…..are we fighting? Hmm? Tell me…..” placing a hand on your hip, he starts to motion your body to grind against his crotch as he whispers out the last bit. “Are we fighting?”

I might have to resume being dead soon bc oh my god i cant handle this

"Tell me baby….since we’re fighting…tell me what I gotta do to fix it…tell me.

Nothing babe you're perfect 😌‼️ #loveyourself #changeyourselffornoone #beyourself

"Come on baby…tell me what I gotta do to fix it….so we can get along…”

OH WAITTTT, that shitty gf of yours💀 we can get along then👍🏻

No princess….dont think I will……I don’t think you want me to…..that’s okay because that’s what I’m here for…..”

You're right, pls dont stop😣

"Boyfriend hasn’t touched you yet…has he?”

THANK GOD NO 🙏🏻🙏🏻

"Let me fix it."

Yeah this is my last straw, im dead 👍🏻

Okay kids, lets all thank rae for the amazing chapter 🤭🤭

Bro the way I laughed at this….this is…this is gold. I’m literacy saving this right now so I can refer back to it bc this was just absolutely hands down the best Silky. Omg. Lol! I loved that enjoyed the chapter. Bro..the part where Heeseung was like “let me beat it up and say sorry to it with my tongue later” I died lol. Could you imagine? I should have chapter 6 posted by tomorrow maybe since im working on HHP ch 20 rn ;)

[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

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

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

mentor/mentee bonding or long, tight reunion hugs after a long separation if you're taking some of those prompts from the list!

Mentor/Mentee bonding it is! Featuring Delver and Sylda from my original work…

As far as inn rooms go, it wasn’t the worst they’d ever stumbled into. A quick assessment of the floor and ceiling revealed no obviously damp spots. The beds, while threadbare, seemed clean enough. Even a candle, thick and melted at the base, burned with quiet determination on the windowsill. Coupled with the fading daylight, it shed just enough brightness to provide comfort without revealing the more unseemly details of the room. Delver was perfectly content with that. Ignorance could be bliss when you were tired enough.

“You know, if you want a hand with that, all you need to do is ask.”

The stool creaked beneath him as Delver fired Sylda a sharp look from the corner of his eye. The only think keeping him from firing back a reply was the tie held between his pursed lips, the coarse fabric nearing its final breaking point. He’d probably get another few days out of it, if he was careful. And a little lucky.

Not that luck had been on his side, lately. Something told him he’d used it all up back in Yelen.

Huffing, Delver’s nose crinkled as he tried to card his hair back away from his face. Yes, it was knotted and miserable and road-worn, but gods above he wished he’d just left it how it was. Some ancient and habitual part of his brain had apparently decided that retying his hair went hand-in-hand with removing his boots, so now there he was, bare-foot and simmering in his own stupidity. Divider’s sake, he was a cipher, owner of one of humanity’s most complex and unexplainable minds! Yet, somehow, it managed to forget his entire right hand had recently been used as a rakhund’s chew toy and was about as useless as any other slab of meat.

Soon, his frustrated grunts morphed into a growled curse as he tried to wrestle his hair out of his face. Over the other side of the small room, Sylda had taken up position leaning against the wall, cross-legged, observing him from atop her bed like a bored courtier waiting for the entertainment to begin. Ignoring her was almost as hard as maneuvering his bandaged hand.

“… You still sure you’re fine?” she asked after a particularly frustrated grunt. “At this rate, you’ll be at it all night. No offense, but you need your beauty sleep a lot more than I do.”

“I’m sure,” Delver snapped, then jolted as the tie fell from his mouth. Pure instinct took over once more as he tried to grab it. The movement was as sudden as it was stupid, and in a split-second it was like someone had stabbed a knife straight through his palm. Delver cursed in some language or another - he didn’t really care - and grabbed his wrist. It was as though he hoped pressure could somehow stop the fire from shooting down his arm. Fuck, it had been days since that damn animal had decided it wanted a piece of him - when was it going to stop feeling like a fresh wound?

As usual, Sylda’s knack for moving around without making a whisper of sound nearly shocked Delver into an early grave. He jolted as she plopped down in front of him, crouching for lack of a second stool. Only this time there was something different in her brown eyes. Something not entirely stubborn. 

“Would you just say ‘yes’ already and put us both out of our misery?” She nodded pointedly at his hand. The bandage was starting to turn. “You’re hurt and I don’t mind, so why not just let me do it?”

“I don’t need—”

“—Just give me the damn tie, Delver.”

Suddenly, there it was. The thing that was different. It wasn’t a new emotion, but rather the absence of an old one. Her usual teasing was… gone. Not sure what to make of that, Delver actually relented, his curiosity momentarily outweighing his pride. For as long as he’d known her, Sylda had hidden everything behind tactless and ill-timed humour; practically driven him mad with it. In fact, the only time he had seen it utterly absent was when she’d been hanging from the gallows in Yelen. This hardly seemed a comparative scenario.

She snatched the tie with a look that screamed thank you in the most exasperate way possible, then moved behind him. Delver turned, trying to follow her with his eyes, but the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair, tugging his head forward sharper than was strictly necessary. 

“Still don’t trust me, huh?”

Delver closed his eyes. Damn it. “It’s not that.”

“I dunno. Kinda feels like it is.”

“If you wanted to slit my throat, I assume you would have done it by now. We’ve been on the road long enough.”

Sylda’s fingers paused their journey along his scalp as she considered the proposal. “True,” she conceded after a moment. Her hands resumed, catching the dull copper locks of Delver’s hair, scooping them back. Divider, it was a mercy to have it off his face again; like he could breathe easy. “Why so tense, then?” she continued. “You’d think I was torturing you, but here I am, gentle as a spring-born lamb.”

“Hm. Unnatural for you.”

“Oh, deeply. So I’d appreciate a little more relaxing on your part, if you wouldn’t mind.”

A chuckle broke past Delver’s exhausted defenses. “I’ll try. But I make no promises.”

“Does it hurt?” Her question came so suddenly that it caught Delver by surprise. It was also what gave him the impression that she had been sitting with it for a while, trying to decide the best time to ask it. Naturally, she missed the mark by a good mile or so. Glancing down, he released he was still gripping his wrist tight enough to cut the circulation to his hand. 

“It’ll heal, in time.” Stiffly, he uncurled his fingers, wincing at the red marks he had left on his own skin. While he was no stranger to injury, he had to admit, this was the first time he’d been mauled by… well, anything. 

He hoped he tasted as shitty as he felt.

“That’s not what I asked.” Her hands move again at the back of his head; a new pattern this time. “But I guess it was probably a stupid question, so…”

As she trailed off, all Delver could muster was a hum of agreement that ebbed away just as quickly into the waiting silence. The candle flickered madly, caught in a gentle breeze, and suddenly all Delver wanted was a meal, a drink, and a long night’s rest. Divider, he wanted it so badly he could feel it like a pressure in his chest. It was almost irrational. Painful. Childish, even.

“Why’d you do it?”

Sylda, having completed her task while Delver momentarily recessed into childhood, was now in front of him again, fixing him with that expectant, matronly look she got when she wasn’t in the mood to argue. At first, Delver wasn’t sure what she was talking about, until her eyes flicked pointedly to his hand again. As soon as she did, he sighed.

“Leave it be, Sylda.”

“No.”

“Just… go downstairs and grab whatever’s left from supper. Before the innkeep tosses it to the pigs.”

“Sure. Once you answer me.” She folded her arms, and there it was. That stubbornness again. It hardened her gaze to stone. It was the reason she drove him halfway mad. It was the reason he knew she would do great things, some day. If he did his part properly, that is. 

It always seemed to come back to that.

Delver heaved a sigh that carried the weight of generations. “The fucking thing was about to pounce on you, Sylda. Was I just meant to let it?”

“You could have.”

“Really? Well go ahead and add it to the long list of things that make be an idiot, then.” It was hard to look at her, all of a sudden. “Listen, I’m the one dragging you across the damn continent. Just let me play the hero for once and stop badgering me about it.”

“Hero? More like the fool.” The words themselves were harsh, but the way she spoke them somehow… wasn’t. They almost seemed to sigh out of her, and she slumped down on the edge of the bed. “Just don’t do it again, okay? I can take care of myself.”

Delver snorted, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. What I don’t understand is why you think you need to tell me.” He finally looked up and met her startled gaze. “Sylda, listen… I have no idea what you’re capable of, and frankly neither do you. But sometimes you just get hit by a bout of bad luck and skill has nothing to do with it. I’m not interested in letting some rakhund rip your throat out because you just happened to be looking in the wrong direction.” He paused, fighting the urge to clench his fist, then added, “And judging by the way you gutted the damn thing with that pocket-knife of yours, you feel the same way. So let’s just call it what it is.”

“Fuck you, it’s not a pocket knife.” While she spoke, she folded her arms. Wary. Guarded. “And what are we calling it, exactly?”

“Responsibility.” Grimacing, Delver hauled himself off the stool, rolling his shoulders. Funny, how the stiffness of spending too many days walking only ever seemed to catch up to him once he stopped. “When you travel with someone, you watch their backs. It doesn’t matter who takes the hit, and no one owes anyone anything. That’s just how it is. So enough with the coddling and questions.” He huffed, shaking his head as he rifled through his pack. “Divider willing, you’ll be folding my bloody socks before long.”

“Yeah, over my dead body.” It was almost a relief, to see her grin and hop off the bed with almost twice the energy than what she’d shown before. “Alright, fine. Have it your way. Can’t say I’m against the idea of not owing you anything.”

“Yes. I thought you mightn’t be.” As much as Delver fought to maintain a believable level of exasperation, it was hard to keep the smirk off his face. “Now go and get that food before we both pass out for the night. Should be a few coins left over.”

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.”

Maybe it was the way she said it. Maybe it was some other instinct entirely. But as Sylda snatched the coin pouch off the bed and headed for the door, Delver finally took a moment to reach towards the back of his head.

“Sylda?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that a fucking braid?”