#literally took myself out with the last two sentences and they are the sole reason i am posting this

[septembersghost]

a few weeks ago, I was talking to @elliotschafer about S6 and the Braedens (and I would absolutely not have pulled this from the vault were it not for Polina wanting to read it), and the terrible sadness that underpins their story, and it unearthed the memory that basically one of the only pieces I ever wrote and willingly posted - that was actual story and wasn't reflection or fractured glimpses of narrative or poetry or meta specifically about Dean (as there are so many of those posts scattered all around the internet like petals) - was about them, ten years ago. (I was deeply upset by the memory erasing, which...remains.) anyway, I decided to dig it up out of its grave. the date on this was May 23, 2011, which is...wild. I didn't change a word, for better or worse, it’s exactly as it was in the document from a decade ago.

I was also apparently listening to "Trust Me" by The Fray (I entitled the journal entry "looking for something I've never seen"), if you really want a throwback mood, and MORE things the universe mocks and weaves together for me, because I pulled up the lyrics on Genius and it says: Release Date - September 13, 2005

of course it does. of course, what else could it possibly be? I hear you, fate, I know. (waving to my little self of 10 years ago, not sure if this song is about Dean anymore or if it's about me. it's probably both, it usually is.)

If I say who I know, it just goes to show You need me less than I need you Take it from me, we don't give sympathy You can trust me, trust nobody But I said you and me, we don't have honesty The things we don't wanna speak I'll try to get out, but I never will Traffic is perfectly still

We're only taking turns Holding this world It's how it's always been When you're older, you will understand And then again, maybe you don't And then again, maybe you won't

the thing is, the way I concluded this at the time, as I was fumbling around for some semblance of hope - because that's my brand, it's what I do - I forgot I ended it the way I did. it's likely not been read since I initially posted it, so I forgot...the way I left it. that I would have no idea the added poignancy it would have, all this time later. Dean just has a way of doing that, gleaming by accident, an ember that sparks into a flame and burns on, long after he’s walked over and out of the threshold.

(additionally tagging @someoneoffthestreet​, @laurelwinchester​, and @deandaydreams​, bc you are all with me in my deanlisa emotions hive, and I may as well embarrass myself thoroughly! no pressure to read it though, and of course anyone who wants to is welcome to. 🤍)

look at my icon from back then! I can’t believe this is still active:

(the note is from the original entry too)

Note: This is probably the only fic that will ever get posted here, so I'm not quite sure how to introduce it. Memories are an interesting concept - they make us who we are, they help us grow. They move us forward and hold us back. They fill us with fear and with hope. The idea of losing them is unsteady ground. Would we really want to erase events, even painful ones, just for peace of mind? Would we ever want to forget someone we loved? And what if the choice was entirely out of our hands? All of these things were haunting me following the S6 finale of SPN ("Let It Bleed" in particular), and Friday night, this grew out of that idea.

Fragments. Lisa wasn’t in the hospital for long. Her injuries hadn’t been serious. Lucky, the doctors said. A nurse picked up her chart, flipped through the pages, frowned. Mention of a stab wound casually jotted amongst the notation on minor soft tissue impacted by the accident. Obviously, someone had made a mistake. It wasn’t even enough to cause concern. The nurse handed her the forms, she signed them, and her son wheeled her out, through sterile white corridors, the smell of antiseptic and latex gloves burning her nose. Ben was uncharacteristically quiet. Something about the car accident had him shaken. She tried to reassure him. After all, they were fine. But a nearly imperceptible whisper in the back of her mind left her uneasy. It wasn’t anything she could define. It was that feeling you get when you’ve left a light on in an empty house – nagging, persistent. Unsettling. Certain details of the situation didn’t add up. For one, their car hadn’t been damaged. Hell, their car was still at home. In the garage. And they were miles away. Not far enough to cause real alarm, not past state lines, but far enough for it not to make sense. A friend from work had to pick them up in front of the hospital, and when they were asked how it happened, neither of them could answer. The man who had hit them disappeared into the night. No report was filed. If it wasn’t for the aching all over her body and the tenderness in her side, there would be no indication of an accident at all. Her friend told her gravely that Matt had died. It was unexpected, he had also suffered a freak accident. “How horrible,” Lisa said, but she wasn't acquainted with anyone named Matt. Her friend muttered something about shock or temporary amnesia, looked at her kindly, and the subject was dropped. When they got home, they found a living room window broken, along with a chair in Ben's room and other odds and ends. Nothing was missing, though. It didn’t even look like a break-in. It was strange, like everything else had been strange. She called a repair man, the window was fixed, and the house became as ordinary as it had ever been. When Ben nearly cut his foot on a shard of glass embedded in the rug, she practically destroyed that patch of floor, vacuuming it incessantly and digging at it with her fingernails, as if something else was buried there. When she realized this erratic behavior was scaring her son, she pulled herself together. What the hell was going on? She felt like her entire brain was bruised. Work had given her a couple of days off to recover, and she let Ben stay home from school with her. It felt like they both needed a little time, even though there was no clear medical necessity. She took hot baths. Ben played video games. She made spaghetti for dinner and he silently helped her clear the plates. He smiled at her and said an “I love you, Mom,” before she sent him off to bed. And when the time to recoup was over, their schedules settled back in, like clockwork. It was fine. It was normal. It was the life they’d always had, wasn’t it? A week later, she sat in front of the mirror in her room, brushing out her hair. It took twenty minutes before she realized she hadn’t stopped. There was absolutely nothing wrong. That was the problem. When she crawled into bed, she felt incredibly alone. She went to the closet and pulled out an extra pillow. She had no idea why it was even there, but she suddenly wanted it. It smelled like a mixture of Old Spice, whiskey, and strong soap. A hint of cinnamon, tang of ashes. It was a stranger’s smell. Yet she clung to it, the way she’d clung to her stuffed rabbit when she was a child. Something in her desperately wanted to cry, but she held it in. There was no explanation for tears. It was another two days before she found the shotgun. This detail filled her with an immediate sense of fear. Under no circumstances should there have been a shotgun in the damn closet. She’d never even been this close to a shotgun before. Had she? The sight of it was dreadful, but she didn’t quite know how to get rid of it. The solution was to hide the firearm in the back of the hall closet and forget it was there. And she did. She found Ben in his room, listening to his iPod. He pulled out the earbuds when she entered, and something led her to pick it up. He was listening to Zeppelin. What kid his age listened to classic rock? When she asked who had recommended it, he honestly responded that he didn’t know. Like the pillow, and the shotgun, she let it go. They were simply loose threads. That’s when the dreams started. They were nothing at first. A face in her crowded subconscious. When she started seeing it more clearly, the face began to stay with her. In her waking hours, she realized it was the man from the hospital. The guy who’d hit them. The one who’d disappeared. He was nothing to her. She’d barely had a fleeting glance from the hospital bed. But the face…the face wouldn’t leave her. It became a minor obsession. She called the hospital and requested the records, but there was no mention of him anywhere. The nurses had no recollection of a man even being there. She asked Ben if he could remember the man’s name, but he couldn’t. He only had one vivid memory of the man – "You take care of your mom." He hadn’t even come past the threshold of the door, but she remembered. She remembered the cadence of his voice. She remembered the way he smiled at her, intimately, with so much inexplicable sadness buried underneath. She remembered he looked like he hadn’t slept in a year. She remembered the exact shade of green in his eyes, and how they crinkled at the edges. She remembered the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. She remembered he was beautiful. Frankly, she started to wonder if she was losing her mind. She found a shirt buried in a drawer that smelled like the stranger pillow. She laid next to it and finally cried. She cried for hours. She cried until her eyes were raw and her breath was coming in short, stabbing gasps. She cried every single dream, every single flash of an image, every bit of that scent, every syllable of the voice, right out of her body. That was when she forgot altogether. It took another four months for her to find the shoebox. She was rummaging in the top of that same hall closet, the one harboring the fugitive shotgun, in search of an umbrella, in case she needed it the next morning. Rain was slamming against the window panes, the wind was causing tree branches to scrape the glass like phantom fingernails in the dark. A slam made her jump and her flying hand hit the lightbulb, smashing it against the wall. The remains tinkled to the floor softly. Frustrated, she got the dustpan, a stool, and a new bulb. Slivers of glass were swept carefully up and discarded. Standing on the stool, she replaced the broken bulb, and the light from the new one seemed too bright, almost harsh, like sunlight flooding a room that hasn’t been occupied for a long time. She blinked twice before stepping off her perch, and saw the box, tucked away on the top shelf. Something tugged at her memory, and she brought the box down with her. She carried it gingerly to the sofa, as if she was afraid it would explode. She stared at it, lightly tracing the design on the lid with her fingertips. It took her a couple of minutes to decide she was being ridiculous and lift the lid. The scent hit her immediately. The same scent. The pillow, the shirt. Her heart immediately began beating much too quickly. On top was a necklace, a simple charm on a silver chain, something that looked like it would be given in affection. There was a spare car key. The bottom rattled, and she found a few extra bullets. She removed one and held it in her palm, where it felt unnaturally cold. She shivered and dropped it back in its place. Nestled between these metal items, which seemed like symbols of both protection and danger, was an envelope. One of those cheap grocery store envelopes they used when they developed photographs. Gingerly, she pulled it out. She lingered at the flap. Mystery photographs didn’t seem like a good idea. But it was too late not to look. First, there were she and Ben, pulling faces at the camera. Then, one of her alone, sitting on the porch steps. Her own expression was foreign to her, something out of a life she'd never experienced. It made her afraid, and it hurt in a way that she didn’t understand. Then she got to the next picture, and there he was. The boyish grin, the green eyes, the freckles, all of it. The face that had abruptly stopped haunting her dreams was suddenly staring directly at her. The next picture was of the two of them. His arm was around her shoulders. There were pictures of he and Ben. There were pictures of Ben in his truck. This man that had never existed was suddenly all too real. The final photograph in the bunch was of the three of them, smiling, sitting close together, looking like…like a family. Looking complete. The kind of family she and Ben had never quite had. It didn’t make sense. There wasn’t a part of her that could logically comprehend any of this. But every fiber of her being told her it was right, every throb of her heart in her own ears told her what it meant. She took the photo and put it in a frame, and she put the frame on a table, in amongst class pictures of Ben and shots of she and her sister. If she knew anything, she knew it belonged there. She never remembered who he was, nor did Ben. There was no context, no name. Only fragments scattered around the house, cast adrift like little ghosts. They never discussed him. Not really. There wasn’t enough of anything tangible to discuss. There was no reason for the sense of comfort his face gave them. There was no reason, but he became an unspoken talisman, something to believe in. In the corners of their memories and the deepest parts of their souls, he was there. Somehow, he had existed. And he reminded them to live.

[azureaqua]

❥︎ The Queen’s Deceit • Ikemen Prince fanfiction

DISCLAIMER;

1. I don't own any of the ikepri characters and surroundings here, just my OC whom I created just for this purpose!

2. This is my first writing here and on top of that my first English writing! It's not my first language so there could be typos, and grammatical errors (as I'm still kind of learning the language) — in case this happens please tell me, I'm quick to fix them and make better quality!

3. Last, but not least is the story itself and some characters' personalities. Since the plot doesn't follow after our MC in the game, things can be different! Also, some elements were completely invented by me, so please keep an eye out for that too! (Plus, there could be spoilers for some routes.)

• Chapter III. 

"...And last but not least, this is the throne room. Usually, we celebrate memorials and national holidays here, also the coronation of every new king. I hope you were able to follow me on this tour, and sooner you'll get a better view of the palace and don't get lost or wander off." Sariel relaxed and smiled at me at last, but it was not pleasant. It reflected some kind of devilish charm that struck me the first time I locked eyes with him. It's dangerous, no doubt. He has a special kind of position here. 

But even I can't deny the fact that he's been helping me, for whatever reason. I constantly questioned his motives; almost every second. He seems two-faced, and I can't shake the feeling that one moment he will do something that will soon prove fatal for me. 

Although that may be just because I literally know nothing about him... He's shrouded in mysteries, even more than I feel like I should be. And I'm the one who's not supposed to be here because it's enemy territory. Or is it not just me?

"Certainly, I'm thankful you spared me some time to show me around. Even if it meant keeping the princes waiting." In my last sentence, I stifled a laugh, imagining the eight royalties sitting in a minister's office, swinging their legs because they have nothing better to do than wait. 

Sariel does hold some inexplicable power and presence over them, to leave them hanging like this because of some matters... I may have gotten myself into something that will prove even more beneficial than what I only thought in my dreams would. 

"Of course, Lady Artina. Anytime." 

The minister and I were approaching his office through the corridors of the castle, and I - but surely Sariel too - could hear the clearly audible exchange between the eight princes. They were beyond loud. 

The older man was walking in front of me with confident steps, and the fine soles of his shoes made a soft sound after each movement. When we finally reached the door, he stopped in front of it for a short while, and we heard the princes growing quieter. He turned the doorknob with a definite movement, and we stepped in.

His office was spacious, but I wasn't surprised much - considering he requested all the eight royals here earlier. It had simple but dark colors and pieces of furniture. 

But I had to address the elephant(s) in the room, the eight royalties. Other than the two, whom I met previously at the corner of my assigned room, the others looked genuinely shocked to see me; who was supposed to be a Rhodolitian commoner right now. 

"Is she a second Belle now, or what?" I heard a disdainful voice and spotted a younger, pompous prince. 

True, his suspicion and statement made sense, and I wish I could have a comeback for that, but even I have no idea what kind of cover story I'm getting on Sariel's behalf as to why I'm here. 

But probably not another Belle though, since I'm far from having a pure heart.

"Now, please settle down, young men." He proposed, completely ignoring the blatant question. And to his advice, some of them sat down on a broad sofa which took place near the door, but some of them remained standing. 

All the while, he walked to his desk and beckoned me to stand beside him, facing the princes. They either had cold, ruthless gazes or mischievous, intrigued ones. Honestly, neither is good. 

"I've told you about this a couple of times, but just now, I got the perfect opportunity to make this matter happen. From today, I will assign an exclusive maid for all of you in her person. Please welcome her." At the end of his sentence, I couldn't help and swallow a sudden outburst. 

Okay, this is a curious background story that I got, indeed, I wasn't expecting that.

"No, you did not mention this..." Whispered, perhaps the youngest of the bunch. If I'm not wrong, he hasn't been in the palace for long, so I don't know much about him yet. 

"I definitely did, Prince Luke. Perhaps your aloofness got the better of you this time too." Answered the minister with a bit of a scolding tone. 

"But even then, we all have our own small circle of servants, which we have chosen for ourselves. Why do we need a common maid now?" Asked a black-haired prince. If I'm correct, his name is Leon. I've heard about him the most, he's far from the oldest, but he's a strong candidate for becoming king. He’s also the leader of the country’s domestic politics faction.

Also, that guy has to be here too, who's my brother's arch-enemy and leader of the foreign affairs... Chevalier is his name, right? I remember Gilbert always talking about a worthy rival in his person. 

"We're in no need of another simpleton around us who will stick their nose into higher-up business." Speak of the devil. Suddenly, I don't know if he or Sariel fits this nickname more. 

...Perfect blond locks were flowing in the non-existent wind, cold icy-blue eyes piercing through hearts and skulls, and that gaze that could turn me into an ice sculpture, if possible. Just like I'm back in Obsidian, freezing at night while heading back from the training grounds.

"This is strictly for the sake of your brotherly bond, I inform you, Prince Chevalier. But I ensure that she won't hear a thing about any private information on the kingdom and its policies or duties. But in fact, it depends on all of you since it's a common cause." He nodded and adjusted his glasses again. 

I'm becoming wary of Sariel's use of the term 'common'. I'm not some document to pass around and argue about...

After that, it fell quiet for a while, all of them carefully pondering Sariel's words. I also had more time to examine each of them and even identify if my studies did fit their personalities.

"Well then, before we depart ways, let us introduce ourselves to each other." Then the minister looked at me expectantly. 

Right, here goes nothing-

"Well, guess I'm going first." A tall, broad-shouldered male stood up abruptly with a confident smile.

-Guess I'm not going first, then. 

"I'm the first prince of Rhodolite; the name's Jin Grandet, but you can just call me Jin. I don't like formalities, I feel like it'd put a wall between us. And I wouldn't like that." He winked at the end. 

Then he came closer and crouched so that our faces would be on the same level and we could lock eyes. 

"Woah, the closer I get, the prettier you look." He addressed me as he picked up a lock of my curly, ebony hair. 

I've never learned about the princes having superpowers, but I'm starting to doubt that because right now, it looks like he and Nokto use telepathy or mind-reading..!

Meanwhile, some scoffs and grunts could be heard, while I tried to maintain myself from blushing at his sudden closeness. 

If I didn't know better than all of them having different mothers, then I would believe that this Jin guy and Nokto are twins, judging only by their personalities.

"...You're the worst." A stone-cold voice broke or so-called idyll. "Why would I bother giving a simpleton my name, since you should already know it by now. I'm the second prince, and you should consider my introduction an honor, commoner." I looked past Jin to see his annoyed demeanor getting the better of him, with folded arms and an arrogant facial expression.

You don't have to worry - although I doubt you've ever been in that state - I know much more about you than just your name and title, Prince Chevalier. 

"Oh, would you look at that it's my turn!" Clavis clapped his hands enthusiastically. Can't we leave him out? I already know him very well!

"Clavis Lelouch, third prince of Rhodolite at your service, dear new maid! Or, wait, you should be at my service!" He laughed at the end of his phenomenal joke and smiled, the same mischievous smile which never meant good things. 

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Leon Dompteur, the fourth prince of Rhodolite. I'm glad you will be at our service." He stepped forward, then smiled too - but this time, it was a charismatic and graceful smile. One I appreciated, and for the first time in a long while, I had found it someway comforting. 

"Yves Kloss, fifth prince of Rhodolite. You should call me Your Highness. That's the only proper way to address me!" He said in a haughty tone, with a sharp look in his eyes. 

Okay, noted. And now who's next? I don't hear anybody.

"...Licht Klein, sixth prince of Rhodolite." I successfully caught the quiet royal's words. But it seemed like such a delicate whisper, and for a second, I questioned if perhaps I had imagined it. 

Curious. He looks reserved, introverted, and almost uninterested compared to the others. It's almost a relief. 

"Nokto Klein, Licht's younger twin, seventh prince. But you already know me, No-fun lady." He, too, wore a mischievous grin in the end, just like Clavis. 

I think I see who are the two troublemakers here. 

I was waiting for the last prince to introduce themselves, but I noticed he needed a nudge in the shoulder to realize he was next. 

"Yeah, so... I'm Luke Randolph, seventh- no, the eighth prince of Rhodolite. Nice to meet you." He smiled broadly in the end, and had a child-like and carefree sense to his personality at first sight. He seemed so casual that it was hard to believe he's been trained as royalty.

I’m guessing being the youngest means it wasn't long ago since they brought him to the palace or something? 

I'm sure it hasn't been a year, or even half a year because I would've heard of him. I'm curious about him too, nonetheless. 

"Pleased to meet you all, my name's Artina. I'll be your exclusive common maid from now on. I hope to prove useful for all of your services." I forced a tiny smile to maintain a kind outlook and bowed. 

They should be bowing to me, though. Soon enough, anyways.

"Well then, now that this is out of the picture, Artina-" Sariel turned to me with a relaxed expression, calling my name calmly. 

Uh-oh, now he'll tell me to submit myself for the devil, and it's eight princes? This facial expression is a little bit bone-chilling right now...

"-While I discuss other matters with the princes, please make your way to the other side of the palace, where the attendants' quarters are. A butler will be at your service who'll explain more details about your job. He's already expecting you." He finished explaining, and without another word, I bowed a little once again and finally left his office. 

Time to find out how to get to the other attendants' quarters. And I don't even have any directions to remember or start with this time.

What have I gotten myself into...?

"...I'm curious though, why did you think that she's the one fit for the job, assisting us?" Asked Nokto shortly after Artina had left the office. 

"Should I be afraid of the way she slaps?" Jin laughed lively, with a confident smile. 

"Depends. I haven't experienced that for myself, Prince Jin. You've yet to gather information on that from someone else. Or perhaps the best information collecting comes by one experiencing it itself." He addressed with a small smile and elegantly ignored the seventh prince's question. 

But that just left even more curiosity in Nokto. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

(Yet again a boring chapter. Oof. And posting at an impossible time.)

Part 4 is here!

[thevividgreenmoss]

My grandfather was awake and lucid for a longish while between late Friday night and Saturday morning apparently first time since this past Sunday when we all thought that was It and crammed ourselves seven people in one sedan that got a flat on the way over of course (as we were leaving the handle of the screen door came off in my hand as I was closing it behind me so the vibe was very on the nose things farcically falling apart that whole goddamn day lol) but then when we made it he was smiling and laughing and talking to and teasing everyone that was there, albeit with much more effort than it would have taken him even just a week earlier when he was already in a really frail state because of his hip surgery. My sister happened to be up later than she usually ever is and got to video call and chat with him for a bit I wanted terribly for my cousin in Colorado to be able to also but by the time he could get through my grandpa's blood pressure had suddenly spiked or something and he'd drifted back into that borderline unconscious state so they didn't get a chance to talk which makes me want to claw my fucking skin off of my face but who knows maybe another opportunity will present itself hopefully it does like he suddenly became really talkative and energized the other day after not having said more than maybe a couple sentences over the few previous days like I was there with him for several hours on Thursday and the entire time he didn't say a word and only opened his eyes once for like half a second and even that I might have been imagining after sitting there sleep-deprived and holding his hand trying not to cry because then my mom would start crying and then my aunt and on and on and if he's conscious at that point he'll start to get worried and his heart rate will destabilize but after that for this one stretch without anyone expecting it he was really talkative and alert and joking around with the nurses and doctors and all that for a while but then later yesterday afternoon he started to get disoriented and drift in and out of the present in between dreaming and waking again at one point apparently he kept saying 'look at my shoes' to my mom and her sisters and they thought it was just just the medication/pain-induced delirium talking but he kept insisting and eventually said 'you're not taking me seriously' and I guess gave up? Or said it a few more times I'm not clear on the course of events I only heard all this secondhand when my younger aunt, who also got diagnosed with cancer late last year but thankfully is more or less in the clear now, got back home last night and she and I went into his room and took all the shoes out of the cabinet he keeps them in and like looked inside and turned over and examined the soles of every pair, took the cushion insert things out of the ones that had them, checked for scooby doo-esque hidden doors, all that but there was nothing there just shoes. Her kids flew back out yesterday morning, the older one's tentatively returning to Toronto in the next week or so she had a painfully rough time in some ways her first couple of years and then abruptly had to be uprooted and leave because of covid then everything with her mom and in time honored eldest daughter tradition bearing the brunt of the familial frustration and insanity associated with that and now everything with our grandpa I really really want her senior year to go smoothly and be enjoyable and memorable in a manner opposite to how this past year+ has been I'm so worried about her and her little sister's starting freshman year there in the fall and I'm terribly worried about her in a whole different way like she's still really attached to her parents in this innocent way that still strongly resembles like a baby's adoring my mom hung the moon type attachment and it can be especially hard being away for the first time ever when that's the case...like she's hyper hypersensitive even by my family's standards lmao but she does have this sort of self-possession and inner groundedness that no one can quite pin down but it's

definitely there and maybe that

could carry her through I really hope so...they were saying to come up to visit them in the fall hopefully I can find a job soon after returning to Texas and like be able to afford to do that and also like keep paying the bills and shit lol in either case I hope so so badly that they'll be okay like I think they will be the women in my family are all really strong but they've also had to be because of various fucked circumstances and I don't want that to keep having to be the case...my grandpa's a Strong Woman in a certain way also honestly lmao like my mom's aunts have always been like your father raised you in a way beyond even most mothers which like who fucking receives let alone genuinely deserves that kind of praise from their in-laws lmao let alone a man from a notoriously patriarchal culture of a generation when fathers from any culture barely had any involvement in their children's upbringing at all which I mean most still don't but even more so back then and like literally everyone we've been hearing from or seeing drop by at the hospital has a story of how at one point or another my grandpa was there for them when no one else was like distant cousins variously removed and loose family friends all with something about how he comforted me when no one else could, I remember word for word what he said to me when I suffered some loss of my own, he's the strongest man in our family, the best times we ever had were when he was near us, when he'd take us out, his youngest brother's children saying he cared for and spoiled them as if their were his own after their dad died suddenly when they were just kids, my mom's third cousin whose own father was with her till a late age saying that he was even more of a father to me than my own father, his other brother's son who was ostracized for decades by his immediate family on some straight up racist ass bullshit on the part of his mom and older brother because he married a black woman but my grandpa stayed in touch and made sure my mom and uncle did as well and made sure we all got together when he'd came to the states, like even now lying there on what very well might be his literal deathbed when he can barely talk he was telling my uncle he's worried about him and he needs to go home and rest, asking who's taking care of the house, are the kids all okay even at this point his thoughts are for others. After I put his shoes back in the cabinet I closed it and opened the one beside just in case I guess just in case what I don't know but it was just like standard cabinet stuff clothes a shaving kit and a couple of what I assume are photo albums that I didn't feel like I should open for some reason and a few old books, a collection of Ghalib's which I can't really read very easily if at all because it's in Urdu lol, a history of government college of Lahore where his father was teaching at the time of his death and the two philosophy textbooks my great grandfather had written himself, Inductive & Deductive Reasoning, and inside the latter I found a handful of yellowed pages torn out of an old notebook upon which mostly seem to be translations of french poems and I think maybe a song or two? I guess old coursework or just for funsies I'm not sure whether written by my grandfather or his own father. My khala was mentioning just the other day that she'd kept one of my grandpa's old notebooks marked as having been designated for biology but inside it were no actual notes just urdu poetry which she wasn't sure whether it was his own original tossed off work or something the lifelong frustrated creative transcribed while bored in class. The night I got here I was looking through his bookshelves after everyone had gone to bed and then a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the living room by myself watching archer when my cousin came and sat down next to me upset and unable to sleep on her own first night here and I held her and tried not to cry and then went through the same bookshelves again, this time with my cousin who we came to Pakistan for the first time after moving to the US

to see being born who turned three

the day we arrived on what until this current trip was the last time I was here her little sister having just been born earlier that same year (whose life I may or may not have saved when I caught her after she was dropped by the person holding her (the fact that (parentheticals within parentheticals!) I may or may not have been the one who dropped her in the first place is immaterial imo not that I'm the one on trial here but what's important is that I caught her and if anything this would be an even more athletically impressive and frankly heroic incident if I'd been the one that was holding her to begin with since I was 8/9 years old at the time and there wasn't much of a distance for her to fall and yet I kept her from hitting the ground like talk about reflexes like that's what's important and what's more important than even that @ my year older cousin (whose younger sister was the first baby in the family after myself whose arrival in this world when I was three had me positively giddy in the way that young children get when witnessing the miracle of even younger children, who's the only other one of the cousins that's been here during all this, just me and the three I got to see as darling little babies) who was the only other person in the room with me at the time, is that we take this to our fucking graves no one can hear a word of this least of all any adults in the house who like not that they're the ones on trial here either but like who allowed for this scenario to transpire in the first place where two children and an infant are in a room by themselves unsupervised in retrospect that's somewhat irresponsible not that I'd ever hold it against them or even mention it because then they might get mad and not let me hold my little cousin anymore and I do love holding my little baby cousin and carrying her around everywhere, mostly without incident)) neither of whom I'd see in person again until we visited them in Canada the summer after I graduated college the trip during which I finished the last of the Neapolitan novels the day after landing and turned 22 the day after their mother, my younger khala, turned 43, looking through my nana's bookshelves with my baby cousin no longer a baby but a U of T classics major entering her senior year, noting the overlaps with our own, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, George Eliot, the same exact copies of Cheever and Kafka's collected shorts, Umberto Eco, Proust, wondering what the various titles meant to him or what they might say about him, wondering how much of even the version of him that can be hypothesized based off his library I'm missing now that I'm limited to the much reduced version of what had been in his old home in Lahore (when he visited us after my junior year of hs and my mom was trying to convince him to downsize and move in with my other aunt with whom he's been living the past several years, the one who most resembles my grandfather the only one that has his cheekbones my khala whose eyes have sunken all the way into her skull before my eyes with exhaustion and grief over the past two weeks, when my mom was like what's the point of just hanging onto a bunch of books that you've already read: I look at them [dramatic pause], and I feel happy [my mom sighing equally dramatically in.exasperation, me cracking up in the background]) the city I was born in the house where I spent the first almost five years of my life before we moved to the US to join my dad who'd moved back shortly after my mom became pregnant with what turned out to be me, abu nana's house with the garden we'd walk through every morning holding his hand and following along as he puttered around with his plants in the garden in the house in the city he had to leave to move into my khala's house in Islamabad where I've been the past almost a month now where two weeks ago he suddenly came down with pneumonia and had to be dragged to a hospital in Rawalpindi where he's been since, not in his house, my nana's house, with the garden in the city I haven't seen since the last time I was in this country the

summer I

turned nine the day after my khala turned 30 the day before my other khala turned 32(?) the summer I first remember obsessive compulsive disorder becoming an overwhelming aspect of my consciousness although it was there before, the first summer of the Iraq war and being terrified watching the Iraq war unfold on the BBC evening news my nana would turn on

at dinner time and hearing for the first time or maybe just the first time I remember the night we left the phrase 'the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer' from my younger khala talking to her sisters and some family friends that had come over to see us off feeling terrified and cold then embarrassed because she noticed my face visibly fall from across the room and told my mom and I was like godammit everyone knows I'm scared now smhead then crying the entire flight back home because I missed everyone and maybe had a little kid premonition that I wouldn't return to my nana's house and I would be years and years till I saw any of them again some I still haven't or maybe there was nothing premonitory about it but in either case that's the way it turned out. I do feel grateful I got to see him again at all, when he last came to the US late 2016-early 2017 I was sure it would be the last time we would be in the same room. I'd make breakfast for us every morning and we'd eat together and the entire day I'd sit next to him inhaling secondhand smoke and talking and reading. I was in the midst of my initial aborted attempt to read Swann's way when he arrived. I'd gotten to Guermantes way last summer but I couldn't find a secondhand copy so I had to read it via ebook and that didn't feel right so I abandoned it until now I've been reading a copy pulled from his bookshelf. Last he visited was the first time I learned we were both Garcia Marquez-heads which I'd kind of assumed before and I showed him Mad Men which he heavily fucked with and also every John Le Carre adaptation I could track down online. From the first time I read one hundred years of solitude the summer after freshman year of college the passage describing Colonel Aureliano Buendia's death already absolutely and unbearably heartwrenching enough immediately brought thoughts of my grandfather, aching aching sorrow over the solitude that he himself existed within in all the fucking pain his life has been inordinately filled with grief over the knowledge of this inevitable final separation from him after so many years and so much distance already having separated him from the people he loved and cared for and he loved and cared for so many people so deeply with such sincerity and beauty and endless endless warmth and compassion and humor when Gabo wrote of the colonel trying to reach back through to his memories and being unable to after previously recalling that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice even years later, as he faced the firing squad, at the moment of his death like a 'baby chick' my poor frail beautiful grandfather appearing exactly the same way when he'd take off his dentures and curl over to the side to sleep, then when awake but still half asleep hearing your voice having brought his apple cider vinegar and garlic concoction or a cup of tea or just coming by to hold his hand or play with his beard the way all of his grandchildren have at one point or another and smiling with his eyes still closed smiling bright and wide the expression of a precious little cat purring as you scratch under its chin always the most beautiful smile and even as his hair turned white and his body withered and wrinkled and shrunk his cheekbones while still not bad long ago ceased being the way they were in that picture from his wedding day back when he he looked like young Robert De Niro's much much prettier Kashmiri cousin from then until now always that same radiance and those same quick-witted and kind and bright bright bright sparkling eyes. The past month and a half I've been feeling like I'm seeing my own mother dying before my eyes along with her father, my adorable beloved abu nana, I can't even begin to comprehend how she must be feeling right now I feel like I'm witnessing her death in advance through all of this and losing the part of her that is him even though I know that's not actually the case. Things have been so fucking painful and complicated between us but the one thing we've shared that's never

been painful is our love for him. When he left after his last visit four years ago I spent the next two days barely able to even talk. Compliments or like any positive comments directed in my directions have almost always caused me this reflexive discomfort and uneasiness but whenever he or anyone else would say that I'm his favorite grandchild I'd want to hold on to that as closely as i possibly can. I don't want him to leave us and more than that I want for whatever happens to at least happen with him back at home but neither of those things seem likely right now although who the fuck knows. I hope his last thoughts can be of flowers, like Kafka's, and Lispector's, or of love, wherever he is I hope it's not asking too much to hope for that at least. For someone that spent his life so deeply immersed within that Garciamarquesian solitude he never made those around him feel any way other than at home, safe and warm and loved and adored and adorable and lovable and at home not because of a place not even the garden at the house in Lahore but with him always always I've never felt more at home than during the times I spent near him, and his love and his flowers

[perriewinklenerdie]

Hand in my hand (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! We back, how we feeling, fam? Everyone alive? When I say I got thrown into the writing pit after yesterday’s chapter, I mean I was *slammed* against the wall, not the first and certainly not the last time either. So, it is a rewrite of two scenes in particular, with my own twist and added touches cause I couldn’t help myself :D

Special thanks to my friend @strawberrwess for coming up with a line in here and letting me use it <3

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471001

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie

Enjoy! <3

-------------

The administrative office is strangely empty and quiet when they enter, the artificial lighting making the white of the walls and furniture even brighter. After making sure that they were alone, twice, for the good measure, Claire strode towards the desk, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the screen. It was unlocked, there for the taking

“Is it bad that I was expecting that to be the case? Amateurs.” she muttered under her breath, causing Ethan to let out a laugh that he had to stifle. Claire sat down on the chair, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard, her eyes scanning the information before her. Ethan walked over to her side, putting his hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Let me, I’m more familiar with their system.” He spoke gently, their eyes locking for a brief moment when she stood up to make space for him, their faces in close proximity long enough for his thoughts to get swarmed with all kinds of images that threatened to overwhelm him and make him throw all this inhibitions to the wind and just reach for her.

Claire moved to the door, leaning against the frame, watching the hallway for anyone that might sink their mission. Meanwhile, Ethan took the seat and got to work. He combed through the files, looking for the name of the senator, but it proved to be more work than he anticipated, for his eyes kept straying to Claire. She was keeping guard, but more often than not, he felt her gaze on him, and found it incredibly distracting.

“Is there something on your mind, Claire?” he smirked, directing his attention back to the task at hand.

“I like looking at fine things, Ethan. That’s all.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking back towards the corridor. “So how often do you come here?”

“Very occasionally. I’m consulting on a research project with an immunologist which requires me to come by a few times a year, but I largely try to avoid the place.” Ethan answered offhandedly, his tone neutral for the most part, sparking up only when he mentioned his research.

“Because of Tobias?” after receiving no answer from him, she carried on. “Ethan, Tobias seems to enjoy messing with you.”

“Oh, he does. He messes with everyone, I’m no exception here.” He nodded after a moment of consideration, without delving into the memories too much.

“Even when you were friends?”

“Of course. After all, we were both troublemakers. But while I was direct with challenging my authority figures, he always was a prankster.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he recalled his first med school year.

“Challenging your authority figures, huh?” Claire grinned widely, looking back outside to make sure they were safe before walking towards him. “Do you mind me challenging you, Dr. Ramsey?”

“No, as long as I get to challenge you too, Dr. Herondale, I don’t.” he looked up at her, electricity humming softly in the air around them. After a long, intense moment, he continued. “We had one particularly uptight professor with some… very outdated theories. Tobias swapped out his projector slides with rude drawings.”

“You draw?” she asked, surprised, laughing when he nodded.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Is there anything you can’t do? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t think I want to know. Don’t burst the bubble for me.” Claire held her hand up, looking over her shoulder to check on their situation. “What kind of ‘rude drawings’ did you do?”

“What makes you think it was me?”

“Was it not you?” her eyebrow shot up in a question. He held his breath, fighting to keep a straight face, before ultimately failing and laughing warmly. “Thought so. So, what was it?”

“Some women and men in very revealing poses.” He admitted, his cheeks reddening slightly. Claire giggled, her eyes widening a bit. Nodding her head, she brushed her hand against his shoulder.

“If you ever need a model, hit me up.”

“I’m going to pretend I understood the last part of that sentence and accept your offer. Anytime, Rookie.” He mused softly, his hand moving to brush his fingers against hers, twining them for a short moment. Wordlessly, they spent the next few seconds, reveling in the quiet comfort of each other’s closeness. Eventually, they fell back into the everyday world, him going back to searching for the senator’s name on the long list of patients while she retreated to her previous spot by the door.

“Anyway, the professor did the whole two-hour lecture without one looking back to notice why we were laughing. Me? I always preferred calling him an idiot to his face.”

“Sounds like you.” she teased him, moving her weight from one foot to the other. “It also sounds like you two were having a lot of fun together.”

All he did was hum quietly, then his attention was focused solely on the task at hand. His smile fell as he sat back in the chair, confirming what they both were afraid of. “There is no Farrugia anywhere in the hospital. Are we sure June’s tip was reliable?”

“I think so… Could he be under a pseudonym? Would a hospital allow that?” Claire’s confusion was clear on her face as she walked over to him, leaning against the desk, folding her arms over her chest.

Ethan nodded, deep in thoughts. “It’s possible. But that means we need to figure out what a senator neither of us has ever met would use as an alias.”

“But it may not have been the senator who came up with the alias at all…” she trailed off, the gears in her head turning. Letting out a deep breath, she spoke up. “Okay, what do we know about Tobias? He would have been the one to admit the senator, and it seems unlikely he’d pick a name at complete random.”

“No, almost nobody would.” He agreed, leaning forward, resting his head on his hands.

“Can you think of any name that might have popped into his head? A relative, or friend, or-“

“Dwight Theodore Lewis III.” He stated firmly, a spark in his eyes. Claire shifted in her place, turning to face him more directly.

“Who?”

A smirk lit up his face when he recalled that piece of information. “It was the name of Tobias’s fake I.D. He kept it framed on his desk as a memorial to ‘all the good times’ they shared. He used it any time he needed to avoid getting in trouble.”

“Great.” She drummed her fingers against the surface of the desk in excitement. “So is there a Dwight Theodore Somebody the Somethingth in the records?”

A few clicks later, a file popped up on the screen and Ethan turned fully towards her with a wide and satisfied grin. “Room 734. That’s in the V.I.P. wing.”

“Kenmore had a literal V.I.P. wing?”

“There’s more than one reason I despise this place.” He muttered under his breath, sharing a knowing gaze with her. He opened his mouth to say something else when the voice of a woman reached their ears, indicating she was approaching them. They both froze, uncertain what to do. Not enough time to run and nowhere to hide, about to be caught.

With no warning, Ethan reached from his seat for her, his hand grabbing the front of her scrubs, and pulled her onto him. She stumbled, her knees hitting the chair, hands grabbing onto his shoulders to keep her balance. He looked up at her, eyes locking for a brief moment, and she couldn’t find a sliver of hesitation if she tried. His hands pressed firmly against her back, pushing her onto him even more, and with one, small movement from him, his lips touched hers urgently, like he couldn’t wait a second more, like he’d combust if he had to stay away from her.

The intensity took her breath away. Her heart stopped beating, only to pick up its pace the moment it came back to life, her head spinning. She twined her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands to pull him closer, even though it was humanly impossible to do so. Their faces were as close as they could possibly be.

“Oh! Uh… Sorry!” the same female voice rang behind them, but neither noticed nor cared. Retreating footsteps were barely acknowledged, for they were far too gone. The lady closed the door to provide them privacy, making Ethan grateful, mostly because it allowed him fully sit her in his lap. He grabbed her by the hips and hauled her into the sitting position, her knees locking him down in the chair.

A soft sigh slipped past her lips when Ethan directed his kisses down her neck, moving aside his own lab coat, a bit too big and hanging loose on her body, then the material of her scrubs, to reveal the skin on her collarbone, teasing it lightly with his lips. Claire shifted on top of her, drawing a strangled groan from him.

Ethan stood up and carried her onto the desk, stepping in between her legs, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. His hands were running up and down her back, holding her in place, closely to him, while her fingers combed through his hair gently. Claire’s heels grazed against the back of his thighs briefly, preventing him from stepping away at the same time.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both out of breath and out of mind. He leaned away from her, with no enthusiasm, wanting nothing more than to dive back into her and never stop kissing her. Knowing that they both had duties to fulfil, he reluctantly moved back, though his hold on her never lessened.

“We should… We need to…” he panted as he spoke, his eyes darkened with desire. Claire nodded, grinning widely at how certain he was in all his movements.

“Room 734. Yeah.”

---------------

Her laughter ringed in the air as her and Baz ran out of the hospital through the main entrance, not daring to look back and see if Tobias was still following them. Just then, ever the savior, Ethan pulls up in front of them, slamming the brakes. He called out through the open window.

“Need a ride?” unsurprisingly, he was incredibly smug about it. Baz laughed, throwing himself towards the back seat.

“This is just like a movie!”

“My hero.” Claire giggled, opening and closing the door to the passenger’s seat hastily. She turned her head towards the building, just in time to see Tobias bursting out of the entrance. “Ethan, hit it!”

His foot slammed on the accelerator, the car speeding away, leaving Tobias far behind them. Looking back at his form that was getting smaller and smaller, she noticed his amused smirk. “Looks like this round goes to Edenbrook.”

She then turned back around, letting out a relieved laugh as her forehead fell against Ethan’s shoulder. He looked at her briefly, a soft smile lighting up his face. Claire leaned back into her seat a moment later, her breathing evening out.

“So, did our plan work?” he asked, relaxing when the tension left him.

“Like a charm. We should be expecting the senator to join us in the hospital soon.” She grinned, her heartbeat picking up when Ethan looked at her again, his eyes softening.

The silence was comfortable, a striking contrast to the adrenaline-driven events that took place just minutes ago. Ethan kept stealing glances at Claire, Claire kept on brushing her fingers against his, seemingly by accident.

“You two can hold hands, you know?” Baz’s voice rang from the backseat, causing them to freeze in their movements.

“We don’t-“

“Why would you-“

“Oh, come on. You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried. Both of you are flushed, your lips are bruised, not that I have any idea or want to know when you two found the time to make out on a mission. So, please.” He laid it all out for them, then leaned forward, grabbing their hands and joining them firmly. “Commit to it, dammit.”

Ethan fought the overwhelming smile, tried to bite it down, but ultimately failed and just accepted it, his fingers tangling with hers. Claire nodded, catching Baz’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He winked at her knowingly, then sat back in his seat with a satisfied smile.

[bottlecapbaby]

DADGUM your fallout 4 reacts are so darn good. God anymore? owo

So I took this as a free for all and I did pining!companions reacting to Sole singing a sad/longing love song (I thought of Soon from Thumbelina as I wrote this)

Cait

Cait had no idea Sole could be so… tender. She’d known that Sole was a decent person, sure, it was practically insufferable how much she wanted to help everyone they came across. But it hadn’t occurred to Cait that maybe, sometimes it was her that needed the help. She just didn’t know how to ask for it. Of course, this could just be Cait reading into things, couldn’t it? Jet probably fogging up her brain, probably makin’ her get all emotional. Sole was loner, like her, didn’t need nobody or nothing. Yep.

Just like her.

Curie

Curie would wait patiently for her to finish before revealing herself fully, gushing with praise.

“You sing so beautifully madame, and with such passion! I can only hope that one day I can express myself in such a graceful way as you, Sole.” Curie has no idea the way her cheeks glow and her eyes sparkle when she compliments Sole, or any time she talks about her, really.

Danse

Danse thought he was hearing a holotape at first, her singing sounded so clear and lovely. And he couldn’t deny that it reminded him of certain… thoughts he’d been having concerning her. Was it possible that she yearned for him in the same way? Not likely, he thought. But for those moments, when he could hear her heart, beating and raw just a stone’s throw away, he liked to imagine she did. That maybe life didn’t have to be lonely anymore.

Deacon

Barbara, what would you have done?

There was, of course, no answer back. The melodic tones that rang through the night air only reminded Deacon of his current dilemma. Sole.

The Railroad agent had long since resolved never to let anyone within arms reach of his true self again. Not only was he unwilling to let anyone get hurt because of him, he was also convinced that he was undeserving of that kind of love. He’d had it once, but his despicable past caught up to him, and he figured his past sins had sentenced him to a life alone.

But Sole wouldn’t let him be alone. She was shoving her way into his life, into his identity, and Deacon was running out of the willpower to keep her out.

Hancock

Fuck, and he thought Magnolia was talented. He’d never felt anything like this listening at the Third Rail. And here Sole was, not performing for anybody but herself, keeping that beautiful voice a secret. And Hancock felt guilty for even listening. He couldn’t help but do more than just listen— he hoped. Hoped that when she sang that melody, when she sang of love, that she thought of him. It was a selfish thing to hope for. She didn’t deserve to be stuck on some ghoul, not like he was stuck on her. He didn’t sing much, especially not since going ghoul, but for the first time in a long time, he wanted to.

Gage

For as long as he could remember, Gage was never fond of music. RedEye was annoying as all hell and barely musically literate, much less talented. All those pre-war crooners sounded the same to him, not to mention how irritating Travis was as a radio host. Classical bored him to fuckin tears. And most anything else he heard was a derivative of one of those. But hearing Sole’s sweet, lonely voice was something else entirely. He’d never admit it, but he would stay up for as long as they decided to sing, even if that was til dawn. Of all the memories the two of them shared since she became Overboss, these were his favorite. Maybe when he was feeling a little more honest with himself, he’d ask her to sing love songs just for him, only him.

MacCready

Sometimes there was singing in Little Lamplight. The older kids would do it sometimes, help the younger ones get to sleep. Mac was no stranger to such lullabies, and he even sang them to Duncan some time ago. What he heard that night from Sole was not a lullaby. But somehow, it helped him rest a little easier. In these little ways, Sole could always make him feel safe, without even trying. Maybe someday he’d have the courage to tell them that.

Nick Valentine

If there’s anyone who could appreciate a love song, it’d be the man with the last name Valentine. He probably sings to himself a fair bit when he feels nostalgic, especially when he thinks of the real Nick Valentine. But to hear that Sole shares that same sort of melancholy, the one that needs to be let out in that way, makes him feel a sort of kinship and fondness he hasn’t yet known for anyone else.

Old Longfellow

He’d sang shanties with the best of them, and Old Longfellow knew a soulful talented voice when he heard one. He knew many songs of love and loss and listlessness, but this one was new, and it came from somewhere he didn’t expect. The song was too passionate for the singer to not be acquainted with its subject. He’d remember to ask for a story or two, when next they travelled. He hadn’t wanted to get to know someone, to really know them, for a long time...

Piper

Journalists have trained ears, and Piper is no different. She hears a song she doesn’t know, she gets curious as can be, wants to know all about it, like she does with most things. To see Sole as the source had her blushing for some reason she couldn’t pinpoint. Longing? Piper hadn’t allowed herself to long for much of anything, not for years. Nat had always come first, before anything. Maybe it was time to start longing again.

Preston

Preston wasn’t usually one for music-listening. Didn’t have the time, but it wasn’t until he could hear Sole singing that he realized how little he allowed himself. He hadn’t listened to music and enjoyed himself for a really long time. So he resolved to sit nearby, maybe maintain his gun, and just listen for a while. Even if he was busy again tomorrow, he could have this moment, and he could hold it dear for a while.

X6-88

X6 knew music as it was defined. He knew what made it good and bad, he knew theoretical application of technique. But to know this was not truly knowing music, and he was beginning to understand that very fact upon hearing Sole. The things he had heard were all commercial, professional, often pandering. He had never heard a song come directly from someone’s soul. Suddenly, he loved music.

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Summer Loving - Request

Requested by @amberautumn: I wondered if you could write a Ron Weasley smut where the reader visits him at the Burrow during the summer, and they stay up late after most everyone in the house has gone to bed

Word Count: 2.509

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Warnings: Smut (unprotected, consensual, semi-public), Virgin!Ron x Experienced!Reader

A/N: I made Ron a Virgin, fight me. 

The Burrow during the summer was a whole show of beauty and magic - literally.

Molly Weasley wouldn’t spend a single day without yelling to one of her children in utter desperation, either because Fred and George charmed the family clock to mark them in prison, or Ron getting in trouble along Harry, and Ginny being living-sass every time every day… Or any other shenanigans either of them managed to do right under her nose.

“I need some holiday…” She said one morning, “I deserve some holiday, Arthur.”

Arthur Weasley, who was absolutely in love with his wife, didn’t even hesitate. He knew that, if he refused, she’d explode in a million pieces and return as a ghost solely to haunt him for the rest of his days, and after she’d spend their eternity in a state of anger that would haunt his death as well.

“We’re only leaving for the weekend,” Arthur explained to his kids and Harry, “just to let her breathe.”

“When we return, I better find this house in perfect state,” Molly threatened. “I love you all, don’t take this personal, but you’re just… so many kids.”

“We know, don’t worry,” the twins replied with honest smiles. “We’ll behave better than ever.”

“I’m scared already…” Molly whispered but shook the thought out of her head. If her kids made a mistake, she’d find a way to fix it back after her return. “I love you, you know where to find us.”

Arthur said goodbye to them as well and they both disappeared in the middle of the front yard, with bags and all.

“Where are they going?” Harry asked.

“Charlie managed to get a room for them in Romania, it’s a quirky place but she’ll like it because the whole staff is mute,” Ron explained as he walked to the kitchen, shoving three cookies in his mouth right after finishing his sentence.

“Someone’s nervous,” the twins observed with a mocking smile on each of their faces.

“What did mum say about (Y/N) coming over?” Ginny inquired.

“Oh, she’s happy, she planned on receiving her with pumpkin pie and a scarf,” Ron mumbled, with his mouth full.

“How is she doing that if (Y/N) arrives…” Ginny stopped suddenly, and her mouth fell into an elongated O. “She doesn’t know (Y/N) arrives today, does she?” Ron didn’t answer, “YOU SNEAKY BASTARD!”

“What? Harry’s here during the whole summer and we don’t mind!” Ron exclaimed.

“It’s not about that and you know it!” Ginny grinned.

“Unless of course you also like to smooch Harry before going to bed,” Fred mocked him and started doing kissing noises.

“Not that we’d judge you, Ronnie,” George added, “Harry is quite a catch, but honestly…”

“That would actually explain why Ron offered me to stay at Charlie’s room this time,” Harry realised.

“Get lost!” Ron fumed and left to his room.

(Y/N)’s arrival was as awkward for Ron as one would imagine. The twins had offered to make dinner - which resulted in them only serving sweets - and the whole time they searched for Ron’s face to glance and offer him naughty giggles. (Y/N) remained unaware the whole evening.

At night, they decided to play a Quidditch match before going to bed. Fred, George and Ginny were going against Harry, Ron and (Y/N).

The game started. Ginny and (Y/N) were rather brilliant players who were both playing as Chasers, while Harry and Fred were the Seekers, and Ron along George were the Keepers. The rings were replaced with a pair of magical hoops that Charlie had left for them during his last visit, the hoops glowed and floated. 

There were no Beaters for two reasons: 1. There weren’t enough players. 2. Nobody had the energy to deal with the Bludger.

In the end, Fred, George and Ginny won. Harry had caught the Snitch (which had been hard considering it was the middle of the night and there was a New Moon) but Ginny had scored 150 points just by herself - the last ten points were scored at the same time Harry caught the Snitch.

After their irrefutable Victory, the twins and Ginny punished the Losers by making them pick up the balls, brooms and hoops, while they went to bed. 

Since Harry had caught the Snitch, he was able to put it in its box right away. The Quaffle, however, was lost somewhere in the great backyard.

“You go look for the Quaffle,” Harry commanded Ron, “we would’ve won if you hadn’t been distracted by your girlfriend.”

“I wasn’t distracted by her,” Ron refuted, “I got distracted by the looks you were all giving me.”

Harry chuckled. “Look, mate, I’ll go put these their place, and I’ll try to cover you for as long as I can.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Got the rings!” (Y/N) exclaimed, as she approached the pair of friends with the hoops in hand. “What’s with the smug faces?”

“We’re… Planning a joke on Fred and George to get back at them for being annoying dickheads.” Ron lied.

“I’ll have these, thank you.” Harry took the hoops from (Y/N)’s hands and juggled them among the brooms.

“Let me help you,” she said.

“NO!” Harry and Ron replied in unison.

“It’s part of the joke,” Harry said. “I need to… um… keep these myself so they won’t suspect anything while you two go get the Quaffle… and then we can proceed with the joke.”

“Right…”

“Yeah, only one person can go in the house or else they will wake up… Harry is an expert in sneaking in so…” Ron started to explain and Harry noticed how his friend ran out of words.

“Alright, bye!” Harry hurried and ran back to the house, cursing every time something fell off his hands.

(Y/N) and Ron lit their wands and went on looking for the missing Quaffle. Truth was, Ron had spotted it near the house, but he didn’t tell as an attempt to get (Y/N) as far from his siblings as possible.

“It’s a shame Hermione couldn’t come,” (Y/N) murmured, “We always have a great time together.”

“Yeah, but I guess Austria is more interesting than this place,” Ron replied. “She is coming though, she’ll arrive the last week of summer and we’ll all go together back to school.”

“That’s lovely.” They continued to walk until they reached upon a moon dark moor. “You’re not pulling a joke on your brothers, are you?”

“No,” Ron confessed.

“And you do know the Quaffle is under the lemon tree your mother has in the yard?” (Y/N) asked with a grin.

“Yes…” Ron answered, “Wait a second, you know too!”

“I’m not dumb, Ron,” she stated. “I know we talked about… that.”

“Yeah, that,” Ron cleared his throat.

“I do want that, Ron. It’s just…”

“What?”

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“Oh, yeah, that…” Ron blushed. “I haven’t because my brothers would mock me and you and that is something I do not want.” He explained in a robotic manner.

“Your brothers aren’t here,” She whispered.

Ron looked down shyly, although he had a nice smile on his face. The girl took a step forward and kissed him gently.

It wasn’t the first time they kissed. No, they had kissed quite often in the hallways after class, under the biggest tree from Hogsmead, at the upper floor in the Three Brooms, on the train back home… That was only their first kiss from that day, but it felt like they hadn’t kissed in ages.

“Are we really going to do that here?” Ron asked in a whisper.

“Nobody said anything about doing that,” she replied and Ron’s face fell into a dumbfounded expression that made (Y/N) burst in laughter.

“I’m just joking,” she said, “I’m up for it if you are.”

“I am.”

Now that was their first time. They were both scared to death but also incredibly excited about what would happen.

They laid on the grass just the way they had done many times before in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. It was wet with summer dew but warm nonetheless due to the weather. They could hear crickets, frogs, toads, and even owls somewhere not far from there.

Ron was shaking. His kisses became shy around the corners of her mouth. She was patient, and soft, with him. It wasn’t her first time with a boy, just her first time with Ron, and though it was always scary to make love to someone new, she decided to play her part as the experienced one.

She didn’t force him to touch her, or to kiss her, or anything. No, she allowed him to go as he felt comfortable and, though Ron didn’t openly say it, he was grateful for that.

His kisses became deeper and slower as he balanced his weight between his knees and his elbows until he found a comfortable position, carrying his weight with one arm and his two knees. Then, with his free hand, he started touching her breasts over her shirt. He barely knew how they worked or what made them feel good, but they felt amazing under his touch and so he spent a good time squeezing them until he felt her hips move under his.

Ron pressed his hips to hers and lifted her shirt just enough to reveal her uncovered breasts. Gravity made them look and feel slightly different than when she was standing up, yet Ron thought of them as two pieces of the finest art.

“May I?” He asked timidly.

“Be my guest,” She replied with a smirk.

Ron leaned closer to her chest. He licked one of her nipples as he pinched the other with the free hand. She let out a breathy hum, which made Ron understand she was liking that, so he continued until he couldn’t contain himself anymore.

He unzipped his trousers while she unzipped hers. He pulled his own down to his thighs, and she simply took them off completely. 

Ron grabbed her hips with his free hand and carried her to align her core to his. But it was dark and, when he tried to thrust in, he found himself pressing against her groin. 

“Not there,” she giggled.

Ron blushed and tried again, failing once more. “I can’t find… it” he huffed.

(Y/N) decided to help him. She used one of her hands to guide him to her entrance. That was all he needed.

He thrusted her slowly, taking his time to allow her to adjust to him. It was a painless process, she was as wet as she could be and he was hard as a rock.

They made love at a slow pace. 

“Wait, there are branches poking at my arse.”

They moved clumsily trying to get rid of any branch or rock or anything that could poke her at any given moment. 

“Why don’t we try standing up?” Ron asked, feeling daring.

(Y/N) gave her a knowing look but agreed just to let him experiment. They stood up, and she managed to use a tree as a support to carry some of her weight. He stood up behind her, holding her hip with one hand and guiding his length with the other.

He thrusted in slowly, finally holding her with both hands. Her back was arched, and her hair was falling over one side of her face, leaving the other side free for Ron to kiss. He wrapped one hand around her waist and another one around her chest, to help her carry her weight as he sped up. (Y/N) was no longer holding back her moans.

She arched her back a bit more so her head could rest on Ron’s shoulder. “Touch me,” she whispered, and held the hand closest to her core and guided it towards her clit, teaching Ron how to touch her.

Ron obeyed, pressing her clit in a circular motion as he continued to thrust as deeply as he could. He was moaning as well, panting over her neck, sweating and feeling every inch of his half naked body covered in sweat. 

“More,” she managed to say. Ron obliged and she scratched the tree while she came all over his throbbing cock.

“You’re dripping,” Ron whispered, amused. 

“That’s how you got me…” She replied before turning her head back to kiss him. 

“D’you want more?”  Ron inquired, innocently.

“Yes,” she answered. 

In a newly achieved confidence, Ron pulled out and turned her around. He took off all of her clothes as well as his own, almost ripping them apart, and pinned her back to the tree. Both of her hands above her head, being held by one of Ron’s hands, and his other lifting one of her legs just enough to give him access to her entrance.

He pushed in and exhaled a groaned. “You feel tighter this way,” he commented and slowed down his pace, rolling his hips slightly every time he thrusted it. She couldn’t say a word, Ron’s pelvis hit her clit every time he thrusted in, and the idea of being pinned to a tree by no other than Ron Weasley in the middle of the night somewhere inside the woods next to his house was thrilling.

Ron kept thrusting in, making sure to not over extend her legs so she wouldn’t get hurt. He had maintained a careful pace - not too fast nor too slow - and also kept the eye contact in such a way that (Y/N) felt like she could die of pleasure.

Ron pushed deeper, hitting her cervix with his tip. (Y/N) shuddered, which worked for Ron as a sign that she had liked it and, therefore, continued to hit it until she reached her high once more, trembling in his arms as she dripped. 

Ron didn’t stop moving, not even when she was having her orgasm. No, he continued moving, searching for his own high but also enjoying every second inside her wet cunt. 

Out of a sudden, his whole body was controlled by a wave of heat. His legs trembled and his head went blank for a second. He managed to pull out right on time, spurting his cum away from (Y/N), into the ground. He was breathing heavily, and (Y/N) was just looking at him, aroused by the picture of him cumming.

“Did you cum?” Ron asked, once his feet were back on the ground.

“Yeah,” She said.

“I can finish you off in any other way…” He suggested before they started hearing voices nearby.

“RON! (Y/N)! WHERE ARE YOU?” Ginny, Fred, George, and even Harry, were looking for them.

“You can finish me off any other time, we’ve got to get dressed now, though.” She winked at him and started to get dressed as fast as she can, Ron did the same. 

Finally, they drifted back home; holding hands, with a big smile on their face and no excuse to cover what they had just done.

-------

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[mincamzfic]

-04-

PREVIOUSLY…

Everything went still once again. Raven was watching you. He struggled against his brothers even more, he only had you on his mind.

“Let me see her.” He gruffed lowly. “Let me see her!”

A deep breath.

A slow expiration.

                                                         //

Everything stood still for a moment. Raven’s eyes were solely on you. You had stopped convulsing. They all watched you, waiting for you to take another breath. And you did, only, after a while. The Man motionned the others to let him go, seeing as the young Alpha had calmed down. Raven rushed to you, eyeing your pale and messy face. In comparison to Jimin, whom particularly despised you for unknown reasons, Raven had a singular interest in you. You intrigued him and he was quite fond of you, to say the least. Raven would watch through Jimin’s eyes how humanitarian you were, how strong-headed you would act towards Jimin. He noticed that you had this calming aura where you would break off any tension whenever you’d walk into a room and uplift everyone’s mood. You would put the people around you at ease, make them feel calm and Raven was almost certain you weren’t even aware of it. That being said, it proved you worthy as his mate, to calm him down when he gets too hot-headed, to reason with him and he was tired to not meet you properly or show his growing affection. This was all Jimin’s fault for not seeing the treasure that was just in front of him. This is why Raven tried to take control with all his might and he plans on being in control for as long as he can.

He sighed, disappointed that you were unconscious. The back of his hand brushed your cheek delicately. At least you were alive, that’s all that mattered for the wolf.

                                                           //

You laid on your bed ever since the Ceremony. The Man would watch over you once in a while, to make sure you were still breathing and whether you had gained consciousness or not. Raven was inseparable from you. The Man and Namjoon knew all too well, it would’ve happened sooner or later. Jimin may not have any attachement towards you but his wolf does and that was definitely betraying him.

Surfacing back to reality, your body felt like a load of cement. Judging by your confused and foggy mind, you first thought was that you’ve been out for quite some time or you were gravely hungover. Either way, you had no clue of the recent happenings or even what time and date it was. To your dismay, you were unpleasantly greeted by an unwanted arm spread loosely across your body. You rolled your eyes upon seeing the man you despised so close to yours. Asleep. You groaned, trying to push his arm away. You grumbled rubbish as you fought against his heavy limb, cursing him for whatever bubble bursted into his head. You were so annoyed and out of breath. Who knew a damned arm could be so heavy? Just as you gave up, Jimin’s grip on you got unbelievably tight. Your eyes enlarged and you gasped, squirming for your life.

“My mate.” You heard him say. You twisted your head to have good look at him. Was he honestly serious?

“Hey, wake up.” You said dryly, attempting to push his arm away from you. You swore you would tear it apart some day. “ I’m serious Jimin, what the fuck is wrong with you.”

You felt his lips kiss your neck and suck on it. “ Mine. No one else’s mate.” You saw his eyes watching you with an emotion you didn’t want to see. You refrained yourself from demonstrating your disgust. He moved to your jaw, holding your face in his hand,placing a kiss.

That last move seemed to bring you out of the daze you were in, your eyes widened in shock as you gasped, insulted. “Get away from me!” You whispered yell before literally pushing his face away from you. His grip on you loosened due to his surprise towards your actions. You kicked him off the bed, yelling this time. “Have you lost your god damn mind?” You took this opportunity to run off, at least tried to since you were still weak. You limbed as fast as you could, stumbling a few times as you did so, to your own room. You didn’t know which room that was and if it were to turn out to be his room, you thought you would literally burst out in flames. You never hated Jin more than you did now. You hated him for bringing you back, hated him for making you live with someone like Jimin, hated Jimin because he thought he was the shit and gave him the right to be rude to you and others.

Even when you arrived into your bedroom, the one you were given, the one you only could enter unless given the right to, felt foreign.You stopped your mind from raging and took in the air. The room had a strong rotting stench and an intoxicatingly lavender smell, it made the hair on your arms stand up. That was no good. You learned recently the different types of smell the supernatural could have and this one fit the one of a powerful being. You had to make sure for yourself. Despite the fact you extremely mad at the world and everyone in this house for treating you like a prisoner and taking advantage of you, you knew you had to protect them if this smell belonged to what you were suspecting.

Walking down the stairs was horrible, everything hurt. You faintly saw Jin talking with Jungkook and two other guys from the house. Your main focus was on the vibe, whether you had as much chills in other places of the house but your room, whether the distance smell was as strong in other places of the house but your room. At your sight, Jin panicked and started to spit non-sense words that came out more like sounds. He finally managed to squeak out a sentence that was understandable, which you flicked him off by saying you were fine.

“Y/N, you aren’t fine. Look at you! You’re limbing!” Jin argued, hands moving dramatically to support his words.

“I just need to be outside so I can heal myself. My powers work better in nature.” You half-lied. You liked to be outside to use your powers as nature sounds calmed your mind but it wasn’t true that your powers worked better in the outdoors. Jin looked at you suspiciously. He finally nodded and that was your cue to keep moving.

“But Jungkook will stay with you. For extra precautions.”

You tensed, not wanting to bring him into your mess, because yes you thought this was specifically a threat to you, and endanger him. You felt all of their eyes burning your back. “I don’t need a babysitter, Jin. I can take care of myself.”

“Nonsense.” He ignored you, batting his hand. He looked at the younger one. “Jungkook. Go.”

As Jungkook walked your way, you made him understand by a gesture of your hand no not move any further. Jin looked at you the way a parent would give the look to their misbehaving child.

“I told  you, Jin. I don’t need a babysitter. In fact, I’d rather be alone while I do this. I am the one that’s injured, no?”

“Yes, but you’re my responsibility-”

“Responsibility? Since when? So now I am a burden to you? Do I need to remind you that you are the one that forced me to come back here? And sell my house and quit my whole life because “I am one of your pack member’s mate now and I am a Healer and prevent Jimin’s and the world’s downfall blah blah. He might as well freaking fall this wolf of yours. Cut the crap,Jin. You already treat me like a stranger when we are far from that. It’s best for you, all of you for that matter, to leave me the hell alone.” You spat, staring them all down. Poor Jungkook, he stood there, confused on what he should do. Your gaze went met Jin’s. “You at least owe me that.”

                                                        //

There was this special place you set up near the patio where the sun and the wind would hit just right. You had placed pillows, candles, string lights, cushions to sit on, plants and flowers. This was your safe haven. You watched the flowers and the grass move to the rhythm of the wind, it blew softly. The sun was going down, it was already golden hour. You took out you manifestation candles and herbs, the salt, your little grimoire that you put together in the last few weeks. You felt on top of your game as a Healer. This was your precious, it had different techniques using energy to heal and you’ve even gotten into spells and potions recently.

You lit the candle. No, you weren’t about to heal yourself, you were about to manifest answers. You suspected a demon was around. It went into your room specifically and its smell wasn’t anywhere else in the house, however, you had a feeling it would come back. You had a feeling it was near. You hadn’t even started to manifest when wolves came running back to the Pack House, howls and yaps that seemed anxious, alerted. You blew on the candle and it everything under the blanket, rushing as well in the house.

As you walked in, you looked eyes with Jimin’s intense ones. Your gaze lingers on his for a little longer than you would’ve liked. You noticed Jungkook was also studying you when you looked away from Jimin. His eyes seemed intrigued.

“What seems to be the problem?” Namjoon asked, authority clear in his voice.

The three wolves shifted back. One of them stood in front of the two others. You supposed he was the Beta and the two were Omegas.

“Someone trespassed on our territory. It’s no wolf for sure, the smell is different. We tried tracking them down but we couldn’t find anything. No prints. Just an intoxicating smell.” A Beta named Taehyung informed.

At that, your face washout out. You knew exactly what they were talking about. Just as your mind was debating on what to do, Both Jimin and Jungkook looked at you. You stared at them, trying to keep a straight face on, but it was hard to hide things through your eyes. You knew that they knew you knew something.

After they’ve discussed between themselves about the issue, yes you just stood there listening, Namjoon decided to increase rounds of surveillance and watch out for clues. He decided not to hunt them down, considering it wasn’t a wolf we were being faced with. Perhaps, whatever that person was, maybe it wasn’t even on our territory anymore.

Once the impromptu meeting was over, people dissipated once after the other, some going on rounds, some going back to what hey we’re doing. You decided it would be less suspicious to go back outside and pretend to do whatever you were doing. You failed to notice the man following your tracks and grabbing your arm before you could open the patio door. You squeaked, taken aback, turning around with wide eyes and pouted lips, face distorted in interrogation.

“You have some explaining to do.” The dark-haired man told you.

“About?” You shot back, knowing what he was talking about but trying to play dumb.

“You became as white as as ghost. You know something.”

“Jungkook, stop being delusional. I got scared because there is a possible threat on us and we don’t know what we’re facing.” You shrugged. You forced your eyes to stay wide to make you look innocent. “And…” you looked at he floor. “I got flashbacks from the Ceremony…” You lied, purposely lowering your voice to make him think you were embarrassed.

He got closer to you, pulling you in with the grip he still had on your arm. You put your hand on his chest to stop him from coming any closer. “I’m going to let this slide, but don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you.” He muttered beside your ear. “I know that you know something.”

And with that he left, leaving you… perplexed. You went outside to fetch your things. You weren’t in the mood to summon demons anymore. You needed to be on top of your game so that nobody knows and so that nobody gets hurt. You felt it in your bones that this was an issue you had to take care of.

                                                          //

Reassembling your witchcraft items, there was a knock on your door. A look of disgust plastered your face at the view of Jimin. A look of hurt flashed on his but he quickly hid it.

“Y/N, we should talk about last night.” A pair of red eyes stared at you.

“What is there to talk about, JImin?” Your tone was annoyed.

“Raven.” He corrected you.

“Whatever. There’s nothing to talk about. There’s no reason why you should be talking to me right now.”

“Do you have to be such a bitch all the time?” Brown eyes looked at you this time.

You scoffed, insulted. “Yes. You deserve to be treated and talked to the same way you do to me.”

“Y/N, I apologize-” Raven’s red eyes flickered uncontrollably back and forth from his and Jimin’s eyes. You grew worried, this wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just usual bickering.

In the middle of that internal battle, you managed to ask if he was okay and out of a sudden he grabbed you by your throat. You hit his hands and chest to make him let go of you. You tried to scream for help but your voice wasn’t very audible as the only thing coming out was a pained gargle. You started banging on the wall, in hopes that someone would hear you. You had powers and all, you started doing witchcraft and all but Healer’s power didn’t do much against aggression and your spells weren’t on point yet. You were only good at summoning since it required a play with energies.

You fell to the ground, gasping for air, both hands covering your throat to soothe the pain. There was a vague vision of one figure on top of a struggling one. You couldn’t really tell who that was since your vision was blurry. JImin was a danger to others and to himself. He needed to be kept on check.

“Did you hear me?” A masculine voice said.

“Mh? Sorry what?”

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“I’m glad to heal quickly, to say the least. Please bring him to his room and refrain him from escaping.” You ordered. Jungkook looked at you questionably but complied anyway.

You grabbed the jar of mountain ash and met Jungkook in Jimin’s room. He was sitting on the floor, holding Jimin down. You made a circle around them and left an open spot so the younger male could free himself.

“Let go.” You ordered again.

He did, quickly escaping the circle so you could close it.

There was a silence. Jimin stopped struggling. He, in fact, looked at you with pure vain in his eyes. “You think you won?” He smirked at you.

You watched him, breathing heavily. “For now, yes.” You muttered a spell under your breath so that his hands would stay together, like they were attached by a rope. His eyes looked down in surprise, he gasped.

“What did you do?” Jungkook asked, looking at you? He was a little too close for your comfort.

“Just one of my tricks.” You answered quickly, avoiding his eyes.

You walked backwards, slowly. Jungkook followed track. You let him leave first. You stared at the alpha from the door frame, in both awe and wonder. He did the same, his chest heaving. You turned around and close the door.

A scream was heard from behind that door. You ignored it and walked away.

A/N:  Hello everyone! I hope you are all healthy and safe. I know in some places it is not easy. I am here to listen if you guys need to talk. Here’s part.4 that you were expecting for quite some time. Quarantine happened and transition from school to online school and my job requiring me to work full time WHILE being in school full time and writers block made it difficult for me to write. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me feedback. Love you all v much

[rigelmejo]

Random things:

- nothing motivates me like a challenge specifically the challenge of “this worked for someone/me in the past so let’s see if it works now” it’s like 99% effective

- in light of that I thought I read 9 Chinese chapters this month but my count said 5 when I added guardian today idk if I messed up the number myself cause I have bad memory (I count guardian chapters individually And total chapters read per month and guardian was being changed to 5 so my brain could have easily seen 9 on the other count and just changed it to 5?? But also I could not remember for sure what the number was before so was it 9 or 4 too late to ever know lol). ANYWAY in light of whatever happened I now feel hella motivated to read 5 chapters tonight until that count goes back where I expected it to.

- my workouts literally so consistent cause some dude was like “yeah I did 50 crunches, 70 push-ups, jogged 15 minutes for 2 months and lost weight and got in reasonable shape easy” so his advice was like do it a month see if there’s a difference lol. I was like well that’s doable and basically what my gym workout plan years ago was except I would do 40 minutes weight lifting too. I miss that :/ anyway so some days I do HIIT with some muscle building exercises instead of strictly jogging. It’s not much compared to my old routine but I wanna see if he’s right lol. And it’s working to motivate me alright since it got me working out consistently. And it’s simple enough I can find a way to do it.

- parasite eve thanks babe u were the motivation I needed to remind me why my ass wanted to learn Japanese for years

- guardian thank you Too babe! I read more of the Chinese print edition of guardian I got today and. <3 <3 took 1.5 years ok ok!! Shorter than I thought it was gonna take to read the book I wanted to READ ToT (now when will I FINISH it?? Who knows who knowssss I sure don’t - my goal rn is just the Sundial section done, since I just finished reading the eng translation up to that point). So fucking clear to me how much I’ve tailor made so much I did to study for THIS lol. Also reading the translation at some point for context thank u past me for finally having a solid thought and taking that common advice u hadn’t even thought to try before. I read the translation of these chapters a week ago? Maybe 2? Idk. I read the translation slow too. and that alone has been enough I’m only running into a word or two every like 5 pages that I can’t even guess a meaning for. Most words I either get in context or are clear enough with context I get the overall sentence (and just don’t know if it meant shocked or stunned/if he put his hand in his pocket or rested it in his pocket). This is what I been hoping for eventually. One day in the far off future. ToT my reading SPEED leaves a lot to be desired however - 5 print page chapters are still taking probably 20-25 minutes (when reading digitally that’s about 20-25 pages on my phone). It’s pretty slow. Now... I also read non fiction books this slow, and dmbj English this slow so, it could also partly be I am easily a slow reader when my brain isn’t in the zone (it’s in the zone for 寒舍 that fic is solely responsible in March for speeding my reading speed up from worse). Anyway, maybe reading speed will improve over time. I know part of it is I’m not skipping sentences or unknown words, I’m trying to catch all the details I can, because it really is written a nice way to me. And I want to enjoy it. And catch the details I can (which is a lot more than last time I tried to extensively read guardian or modu for fun). So I know stuff I “grasp the gist of” I could move on faster but I’m not. Anyway just... thank you guardian I’ll read you when I can. At least now I can.

[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 21: Better than Death

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10​

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: While Klaus does everything he can to find her, he's already too late. Maleny is in her own personal hell thanks to Finn. 

Because Maleny has been switched bodies once again, her temporary face claim is Adriana Louvier.

New Orleans, 1914. Christmas Eve.

Maya Sterling, was patiently waiting for the bartender to hand over her newest drink. There were too many guests for her to keep up with and since Klaus was busy tending to his wayward brother, Kol, she was left on her own once more. Just as the bartender set her glass on the counter, Maya felt a sharp pain at the side of her head.

"Ooh…" she rubbed her temple but it was no use as she began seeing one of those visions again. The more it progressed the more she became lost in it, her painful expression turning into despondence. By the time the vision ended, she was more depressed than hurt. It was so odd seeing pictures in her head of other women, and with Klaus. What was this?

There was a clearing of a throat beside her and Maya found a blonde woman there, wearing a sparkly blue dress, and with a warm smile on her face, "Are you okay?" she politely asked.

Maya considered the woman one more pesky guest but knew she had to be polite. She wouldn't hear the end of it from Klaus and she sure hated his endless scolds. She gave a small nod, "Yes. Perhaps it's the drinks finally affecting my head. I've had a few."

The blonde studied Maya momentarily, almost unbelieving what she heard. Of course the golden-chained necklace around Maya's neck urged the blonde to insist more. "Are you sure it's only that?"

Maya nervously laughed, missing the lingering eyes on her necklace, "What else could it be? It's Christmas, it's loud, it's full of bourbon. I'm probably just tired. Klaus, he's, um, he's had me looking into this party for weeks. I'm running on low sleep."

The blonde's eyes flickered to the side as the Mikaelsons' began emerging from a downstairs room. Her attention was returned to Maya upon hearing the ginger quietly groaning with her fingers rubbing circles over her temples.

"I'm sorry," Maya apologized to the blonde.

The blonde's gaze on Maya turned into a sympathetic one, "Here," she promptly turned Maya around and gently placed her fingers on Maya's temples.

Confused, and frankly alarmed, Maya asked, "Wh-what are you doing? I swear to God if you do something Klaus will have your head-"

The blonde didn't look remotely afraid of the threat and merely smiled, "Calm down, it's only to help. Now stay quiet and relax," as Maya reluctantly closed her eyes, the blonde began to mumble words - that of a witch's spell.

In less than a minute Maya felt her head free of any kind of pain that had been bothering her more often, "Wow…" she whispered in awe, the blonde smiling brightly seeing Maya at ease now, "How did you...know to do that? Why would you do that?"

"Let's just say...I feel like I already know you," the blonde answered after a moment, something about her smile making Maya curious.

"Why would you-"

"Merry Christmas, Miss Sterling," the blonde smiled warmly at her once more before taking leave.

Cami walked into the kitchen of the safe house with a freshly woken up Hope in her arms, "Hope and I agree it smells pretty good in here," she chuckled as she plopped down on a stool at the isle and watched Elijah cook breakfast over the stove, "...and Hope also said she wants to eat it now."

Elijah glanced over his shoulder and saw his niece happily playing with a small toy in hand, "Are you sure it was Hope that said all that?"

Cami's lips raised into an innocent smile, "All hers. She is the only one who actually needs to eat food after all."

"Vampires can also have a liking for meals. So are you sure it's not actually the therapist that's quite literally trained to talk ears off?"

Cami's mouth fell open in feigned offense, "Oh, so now my sessions are just me talking your ears off? You are a rude person in the mornings."

Elijah turned over with a plate holding an omelette and sarcastically sighed, "Then I suppose Hope will just have to have this instead."

"Well…" Cami eyed the meal, "...I guess I can forgive you this one time…" she flashed him a smile before she chuckled.

Elijah put the plate down before her with his own smile, "I do thank you for helping me."

"I'm glad I've been of use," Cami replied back and sighed, "I haven't exactly finished my course but it's good to know that I don't totally suck at it. I mean, if I'm able to help thousand year old vampires then I can do anything."

"Of course you can," Elijah assured and turned back to the stove to clean things up.

He had to admit while he'd been initially reluctant to speak of his tremors in his mind - especially the Red Door - Cami was able to do more than what any other therapist, psychologist in the past could do. But perhaps he was a little bias since he was closer to Cami than the others. Sharing with her his fear of having no control over himself and thus accidentally hurting those he cared for was monumentally difficult for him, but he'd done it and he'd done it thanks to Cami. Although, after his meeting with his other brothers through Finn's elaborate 'prison' things had been stirred up. He was just glad at the last moment Finn was forced to take down the spell thanks to a spell from Amarrah and Davina.

"And I meant what I said," Cami's voice brought Elijah out of his thoughts. He stopped cleaning and looked at her, "I don't think you'd hurt anyone you love," she finished her sentence, "Could you really think yourself capable of hurting this little one here?" she gestured to Hope.

"Never," he replied instantaneously.

"Then you can start to forgive yourself," she ordered gently. She knew the origin of his problem laid in the fact he'd accidentally killed his first human love, a girl by the name Tatia, as a vampire. Esther had buried the memory deep into his mind, morphing it so that he believed she'd killed him for the vampire spell.

"Yes, while I can perhaps attempt to do that how do I...lose fear of myself?" he left the cleaning to return to the isle, "How can I be sure that I won't lose control anymore?"

Cami stared at him sadly, hating that she had to be so blunt about it, "You can't be sure...because they're your instincts. But you're you, Elijah, and you don't hurt your own."

"Shall we go back to when I nearly attacked you here?"

"Shall we also remember you apologized for it?"

Elijah was in no mood for sarcasm this time and simply frowned, "This isn't just about me, Cami. I don't want to hurt anyone in this family. I don't want to hurt you."

Cami reached for his hand across the aisle and gave it a grip, "Back when you almost attacked me, you disappeared. You showed restraint. Why?" she leaned forwards and whispered as if it were a grand secret, "Because you don't hurt family. Anyone else, please, feel free to rip their heads off."

Elijah managed to smile at that last remark, "I'll be sure to think of that if the need should arise."

"Good," Cami slowly took her hand back and looked at her breakfast plate, "So, thank you for the breakfast. Hope really appreciates it," she bobbed the baby who giggled in response.

Elijah watched the two interact for a bit with a smile across his face. He couldn't see himself hurting Hope for any reason; the same applied to Cami. He would rather succumb to any other torture his mother had for him than to ever have to think about hurting her...Hope...he meant Hope…

~ 0 ~

Klaus watched over Amarrah as she tried conducting yet another locator spell that would hopefully find Maleny for them. But just as the other times, Amarrah stopped her spell as nothing on the map placed before her happened.

With another failed attempt, Klaus sucked in an angry breath, "I am fighting the big urge not to rip your heart out right now!"

Amarrah looked up at him, no more pleased than he was, "You think I'm not trying here?"

"I don't know, let's ask the dozen previous times you've done this and failed," Klaus sarcastically snapped at her. He began pacing in the compound's courtyard while Amarrah tried once more the spell, "We have been at this for an entire stupid night and we're no closer than when we started!"

"I know that! But there's not much more that I can do," Amarrah sighed, "They took her and I suppose wherever she is now it's cloaked. It's gonna take me some time to get it done."

"What if we add another witch to the spell?" Klaus had stopped pacing to face her, "Davina may detest me but her feelings for Mal are pretty honest. Even when crossed with each other Davina would help."

"Yeah," agreed Amarrah, "except she's a little tied up trying to find Marcel and his vampires, remember that?"

Klaus made a distressed gesture with his hand as he thought of the other problem that risen in the past day. As Marcel and his vampires made it perfectly through the Quarter during its festival after Finn's boundary spell had been lifted, they'd all somehow disappeared in his loft. Finnn had taken them and with no way to find them. Davina had offered herself to go find them, or at least attempt to, while Klaus and Amarrah worked on Maleny's location.

"Do the bloody spell again!" he shouted the order. Any other time Amarrah would have told him he didn't tell her what to do, but in this case they were both working to get Maleny back. Without wasting another second, she attempted the locator spell again.

~ 0 ~

Rebekah Mikaelson had been having the worst week possible. Being stuck inside a body that hadn't been intended was one thing, but to be stuck in it and inside a witches' asylum was far beyond her tolerance. She'd been trying to come up with a way to escape and she believed there perhaps was one last hope she could use. Up in the asylum's second floor was a room containing one sole coffin with a girl inside - or so she thought anyways - that emitted great levels of magic she could use. The only thing she had to do then was wait for night to fall and conduct the plan.

Coming into her room, she was surprised to find the new girl standing before the window that overlooked the near desolate street. Rebekah slowly came in, wondering if she'd made a mistake by offering her an apple earlier. Witches were dangerous as it was but what about crazy witches?

"Why are you here?" the girl, a blonde, asked Rebekah without looking away from the window.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow at her, "Um, this is my room, remember that?"

The blonde shook her head, "No, not the room. I mean here," she gestured to the place, "Why are you here? You don't look crazy."

Rebekah crossed her arms, huffing, "I was trying to help my brothers. My con artist of a blood relation Kol betrayed me, got me stuck in here. I tell you, now I know how Maleny feels."

The blonde turned around so fast it almost appeared like a blur had done it. "M-Maleny?"

Rebekah, being too focused in her own problems, failed to notice the distinct appearance of someone that knew someone else. "If she was here now I bet she could give me some pointers," Rebekah muttered.

"What happened to the ginger woman?" the blonde suddenly asked.

"Ginger woman?"

"She had pretty hair but her head hurt so much," the blonde continued like Rebekah hadn't asked, "I felt bad for her. I helped her sometimes but she never knew why it hurt so much. Then again, I did leave after a year…"

"Okay…" Rebekah slowly stepped back, "...stay in the room if you'd like. I'll just be downstairs…"

"I was right, though, wasn't I?" the blonde hurried up to Rebekah, her curious dark blue eyes searching Rebekah's newly dark brown ones, "She was cursed the one?"

At the mention of 'curse' Rebekah immediately thought of Maleny, "How could you...how do you know...no," she shook her head and dismissed any suspicious thoughts, "It's not possible."

"What's not?" the blonde repeated, looking lost.

Rebekah smiled, "Nothing. But, listen, I think I found a way out of this hell hole. If you want to come with, meet me at the front door in tonight. Either way, wish me luck," with a pat on the blonde's shoulder, Rebekah turned and walked out.

The blonde, the unknown elder sister of the Mikaelsons', Freya, watched her younger sister leave with a smirk across her face. She'd learned in the short time she'd woken up Rebekah was resilient and kind - she liked her.

~ 0 ~

It appeared Amarrah was finally managing to break through the cloaked location of Maleny as things got moving on the map before. Klaus hurried back to intently watch. However, after a few seconds, everything just...stopped.

Confused, Klaus looked up to the French witch, "What is it now?"

Amarrah blinked and seemed to be in thought, "It just...it just vanished."

"What did?"

"...Mal," Amarrah looked to the side, "It's like, when you…" she swallowed hard, "...die. When you die your body ceases to have a location anymore so-"

"DON'T!" Klaus shouted in a threatening tone, making her flinch, "She is not dead. And if you dare utter another senseless word about this I will personally rip your tongue out."

Amarrah kept a straight face, despite feeling her heart beating faster. With this sudden news she now knew there was no protection against the hybrid's radical movements. "Then why is her location no longer available?"

"Because Finn is clever and he managed to do something to make it appear like she died," Klaus wasted no time to explain. He looked down at the map and noticed where the sprinkles of Amarrah's spell had stopped, "What's that place?" he pointed to it.

"Huh?" Amarrah looked down and studied its location, "It's, um...hm," she leaned closer to the map, "Actually, it's pointing us near the entrance to the bayou."

"Excellent, then we start there," Klaus smiled widely and turned to leave.

"Start what?" Amarrah called after him as she rushed to catch up.

"The search, of course. Hayley's over there right now and better yet with her husband-to-be. They have wolves willing to help."

"We should call Davina, then," offered Amarrah, "tell her what's going on."

"No, let her continue her efforts on Marcel. That way I can find Maleny first without a problem," and with that Klaus hurried off into a quicker walk, leaving poor Amarrah to sprint after him.

~ 0 ~

"What do we do with it now?" Benson questioned Ela as Maleny's previous corpse was once again being placed into a coffin.

Ela glanced over to the corpse, uninterested, "Finn said to keep it safe. Put it back in the plot at the graveyard."

"All the way back to the cemetery?" another of the wolves gawked at such a waste of time, "He literally made us carry this damn thing for a stupid spell?"

Ela upheld an annoyed look on the wolf before grasping her hand into a fist and causing him to go down to the floor with a snapped neck, "Anyone else have something to say?" the rest of the wolves cleverly kept their mouths shut, "Good," Ela smiled and motioned for the remaining wolves to carry the corpse away.

"How do we proceed now, then?" Benson inquired once more after the corpse was gone. He was eyeing the blonde woman laying on the table – Maleny's now once more empty body.

"There's one more thing we have to do to make sure the message is sent and received," she picked up a couple of old spell pages and began to study their content.

~ 0 ~

Young, or not so young, Freya Mikaelson was secretly back in the asylum room that held her coffin. She was trying to construct a spell that would allow her to search for that ginger woman of 1914. Even if dead, she being who she was, would at least get a reading off the corpse. She'd managed to snag a map from a downstairs office and quickly brought up to use it. She then placed her necklace down on the map, ripping it's beads off. If she'd been right and the ginger woman had been under some type of spell, the necklace would equal to that of the gingers necklace. It was ridiculous, she knew, how she was spending her first moments of life again on a woman she'd only known a year. But she wasn't doing this for herself, she was doing it for him.

"C'mon, Maya," Freya whispered and closed her eyes, "Or…perhaps Maleny?" she took a breath and began to chant a spell. Slowly, the beads off her aunt's necklace began moving around the map trying to pinpoint the location of Maya.

She was not surprised to find the location ending up at the Lafayette cemetery.

"Did they kill you the way they have been for so long now?" Freya whispered to herself, swallowing hard. "But if this body's there, and everyone's here...then you have to be here too."

~ 0 ~

A brunette woman panted as she ran across the trees and grass, doing her best to not to trip over her own feet. Her long, wavy brown hair bounced side to side as she crossed. It bore several pieces of twigs and leaves, but she didn't care. Her face was a bit dirty, but even then her brilliant sea-blue eyes were visible as they flickered from side to side, searching for any way out. She knew at the rate she was going, it was only a matter of time before she was caught.

She heard nearby noises and followed them through, knowing they couldn't be of the wolves since they were behind. She slowly crept up to see a small campfire of two people, a man and a woman both in their middle ages. She then saw their campfire along with some other tools...guns. they must have been hunters. She saw the pair were happily conversing over by their tent and decided if she wanted to survive she would have to do what it took. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed to the edge of the campfire and snatched up a gun. As soon as they heard the click of the gun, the pair whirled around to see the brunette holding the gun at them, though terrified as it seemed.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy," the man stepped in front of the woman with his hands raised, "Take the gun, take what you want, but don't hurt us."

The woman's eyes were shiny with tears, "I'm sorry," her clear, American voice cracked, "I don't...I don't do this...but they're forcing me…"

The man could tell the woman was not just a regular thief, she looked scared out of her mind, "If you need help, we can help."

The woman's eyes lowered to the pair's hands and saw no moonlight rings, "If you try they'll just kill you."

"What ever it is, we can help," the man assured her but it was no use. The woman took a deep breath before she shot the man's leg and soon after the woman with them.

"I'm sorry!" the brunette cried and took off again, this time with the gun clutched in her hand. Wolves were wolves in the end. They didn't need a stake to the heart to die.

She had run a good deal away from the campfire before she was violently pushed towards a tree, "Ah!" she fell on the side of her head against the bark and cut the side of her forehead as she fell down.

"Did you really think you could escape from us?" Ela emerged across the brunette, wearing a satisfied smirk across her face as two wolves came up behind her. "Climbing out of a window, though, clever," she gave a small laugh. "Now it's time to go back."

"No!" the brunette declared, "I'd rather die."

"Unfortunately, that wouldn't do you any good because in the next minute I'm going to make it so that you can't body jump. Maleny Rowan, this is your destiny in life: never to be in your own body."

The newly transferred Maleny breathed in and bit her own tongue to prevent fresh tears spilling. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry, no matter how difficult it was. "We'll see about that," she pulled out the gun from behind and fired on one of the wolves, successfully killing them.

Ela stumbled onto the other wolf from the impact of the shot but ordered in time for Maleny to be captured. Ela then fixed herself and walked up to Maleny, harshly grabbing the new brunette by the chin, "You're going to regret that, darling."

"You will!" snapped Maleny who struggled to get free.

"Hm," Ela hummed and stepped back, rubbing her hands together.

Seconds later she began to perform a spell, one Maleny couldn't quite understand. But suddenly it didn't matter what she was saying as a terrible pain surged through Maleny's blood. The wolf let Maleny go as she screamed in utter agony. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. She felt something burn near her collarbone. Her hands flung to the spot, her screams cut up as she tried to breathed in. It was like fire as she felt something on her skin bubble and push upwards. Through her blurry vision she could see Ela smirking while doing the spell. When it finally stopped, Maleny dropped on her side, heavily panting and her hands still over her collarbone.

Ela watched her pant on the ground for a good minute, her smirk widening, "You will die now if you try to kill yourself for the sake of returning to your body," she informed and bent down in front of Maleny, "You see, death was too easy for you. Why kill if you won't even remember it when you wake up years from now in a new body? This way, Fin takes joy in seeing you miserable in a body of a wolf. And Klaus without the faintest clue how to help you. It's all glorious and quite well thought out. The ultimate punishment for you and Klaus Mikaelson."

Maleny rolled onto her back, slowly her breathing returning to normal. The pain over her collarbone was subsiding, but very little. It was now stinging with after-effects. She let Ela laugh it out with her remaining wolf - she reached for the gun she'd dropped not too far. She shot Ela straight on the chest. The blood splattered on her clothes and face but Maleny couldn't dwell over the blood as she had to deal with the last wolf still there. She tried using the gun again but the wolf yanked it out of her hand and chucked it to the side. She was pulled up to the wolf and kept in a tight hold.

"You're coming back with us," he told her as he started turning back for the direction they'd came in through.

"No!" Maleny exclaimed, digging her nails into the man's skin.

"Sorry, your frail little nails won't do crap," the man laughed mockingly.

Maleny stopped for a moment when she saw the moonlight ring on the man's finger. With a smirk she swiftly slid off the ring and promptly put it on her finger.

"Hey!" the man called as Maleny now easily got free from him.

She punched him across the face and was glad to see her strength doubling up with the ring. It seemed for once Esther had actually helped in a way.

"Lesson number one Klaus taught me after coming back," she proudly said after seeing the good results.

"You're gonna die now, bitch!" the man forgone all the plans and torture Finn had instructed.

Maleny backed away, momentarily scared of him. He was a lot bigger than her and more muscle. She knew she would have to...kill, again, to survive. She looked around for the gun and saw it across them. With a big breath she dashed over to it but the wolf managed to snag her by the ankle and pull her down. She ignored the pain on her collarbone as the ground rubbed against it, as well as the sharp rocks underneath scraping at her thin pants.

"Give me that back!" he tried prying the ring off her finger, practically straddling her for it. He only managed to scratch her hand.

"No!" Maleny got in a punch and used the moment of surprise to push him off her. She scrambled over the remainder of the distance and retrieved the gun, using it just in time to shoot the man dead. She dropped the gun and sat up, breathing in rapidly as she took a moment to realize what she'd done.

There laid Ela and her two wolves, shot dead...shot by her. She looked down at herself to her blood covered clothes and hands. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that was terrifying her. She'd just killed three people in less than five minutes. The lump in her throat was nearing her to the brink of tears as she felt her hair - hair that wasn't even hers - that was also mildly covered in blood. But she couldn't cry then, she couldn't afford to lose time. Ela had more than two wolves and after killing her and the two it was sure to become a hunt for her.

She picked up the gun once more and pulled herself to her feet. She looked around and debated which way would lead her towards the road again. In the end, she followed the wind's direction and hoped for the best.

~ 0 ~

Klaus struggled not to leave Amarrah behind as the woman tended to a call over cellphone. They were closing in on Hayley's wolf pack yet the witch seemed to be taking her sweet time walking.

"No, that's not right," Amarrah was saying on the phone, "Mother, I don't understand."

Klaus rolled his eyes and finally stopped to address the waste of time she was causing, "Will you hang up the bloody phone already? We're on the clock and you're going slower by the second."

Amarrah raised an eyebrow at him while she continued listening in to her mother's concern, "I understand now, Mother," she continued which angered Klaus more, "We'll figure it out, I promise. Bye," she hung up and returned her phone to her pocket.

"Nice of you to remember Maleny's situation," Klaus gave her a look before continuing to walk.

"That was my mother calling in with something of Maleny's," Amarrah began to explain, "You didn't listen in, did you?"

"I tend to have no interest in conversations you have, honestly," Klaus said casually as he looked around, missing Amarrah's glare, "I tolerate you simply because Maleny has affection for you. And, because I suppose thanks to your family she was able to come back."

"Thank the people who brought her to us," Amarrah rolled her eyes. "But listen, my mother says Maleny's channel of power with our coven has stopped."

Klaus stopped to turn to her, "And what, pray tell, does that mean?"

"What I said before," Amarrah shrugged, preparing herself for another round of shouts, "Maleny is gone."

"SHE IS NOT!" Klaus roared and turned around, facing her with a furious look.

"Then what else do you think happened!?" Amarrah shouted back, though in comparison to his shouts she sounded more like a whisper.

"Finn would not kill her," Klaus said after a long moment. "I know my brother well, and he wouldn't..."

"Then what would he do?" Amarrah demanded angrily, "Your family is full of maniacs if you haven't noticed! Can you even imagine what Finn's done with her? She could be suffering right now! She could be tortured!"

"Of course I've thought of that!" Klaus shouted back at her, outraged she insinuated he was thoughtless, "You seem to forget it's been me that's protected her?"

"And how has that gone, huh!?" Amarrah leaned forwards, putting them face to face, "I love my friend but she has chosen so wrong! Look where she's at because of it?"

"It's not my fault!" Klaus furiously declared, but his face expressed honest guilt that betrayed his statement.

Amarrah calmed down as she realized he was just as terrified of Maleny's state as she was. She took a deep sigh and rubbed her temple, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Perhaps it's not your fault but you have to admit a lot of the dangers Maleny has faced are because of your family. If she wasn't with you, she would have been-"

"Dead," Klaus whispered, silencing Amarrah. He stepped towards her, "Without meeting me she would have been dead. Probably by the hands of her own father. So, yes, she's been in danger because of her connection with me," he started walking Amarrah backwards, "But she's been protected by me. She had a family with me, my sister, my brother - as wicked and sinister as my family was she was loved by us," he cornered Amarrah against a tree and leaned closer to her, his voice lowering, "You will do best not to question this topic again. It may not always go right but I always aim to protect Maleny. Always."

Amarrah relaxed when he stepped back and started to walk again. She didn't realize it but she found Klaus to be fear worthy. The way Maleny had described him back in France was nothing compared to what Amarrah was seeing. It was difficult to believe an actual relationship could exist between Klaus and Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Maleny swore she could begin to hear the faint noises of cars from the road. The moonlight ring had allowed her the supernatural hearing that would allow her to save her life. She'd been coming across more of Finn's wolves and was thankfully able to combat them to the point of putting them unconscious or death. Most of them she had to...put to death. Her gun had only one bullet left and was close to leaving her to defend herself with her bear hands. With each kill she acted on she felt more and more distraught. She felt awful, but it was better to feel awful or be dead.

She was not going to give them that satisfaction either.

Upon hearing crunching noises behind her she froze and turned around. There was no one to see but she could hear them coming...the wolves were coming to kill her. She swallowed hard and looked up to a tree with a loose branch. Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she decided how she would fight her last battle before she could make it home.

~ 0 ~

"No, we haven't seen anything weird," Hayley told Klaus and Amarrah after hearing the story of Maleny's kidnapping. The wolves that were no longer with Esther no longer wore the moonlight rings and therefore their hearing had been downgraded seriously. But even Hayley herself hadn't heard anything strange nearby.

"We're sure she's in the bayou," Amarrah insisted, "Before the spell was cut off the location pointed towards the bayou."

"Well maybe she's deeper," Hayley suggested, and looked at Klaus firmly, "But we'll help you find her."

"She's been gone for a near day, we haven't time to lose," Klaus frantically gestured for them to start moving.

"Now wait a minute," Hayley motioned them to stay still, "You said Mal stopped channeling magic from your coven," she looked at Amarrah.

"Yeah, my mother called in concern," Amarrah nodded.

"So that means she's either dead-"

"No," Klaus gave her a pointed look.

"What if they started the curse again and she's not even here anymore?"

Klaus refused to believe that and shook his head, "She's here, I know she is."

"Okay, but what if she's not-"

"SHE IS!" Klaus cut her off with a loud shout, his anger rising with each second that passed by, "She is still here and I will look for her through every last bloody part of this bayou until I find her - with or without you."

Hayley gave him a long look, surprised of his hope in Maleny's survival. She supposed she could be optimistic like him until they saw something that would tell them it had gone wrong.

"Or," she began anew again, about to earn another shout from Klaus when she finished with, "she could have body jumped again."

The idea left Klaus and Amarrah thinking for a minute. They hadn't even considered that idea in the whole time they'd been out searching and Hayley saw it.

"Death would be to easy of a punishment," Klaus said to himself, a smirk worming across his lips. "That would be clever-"

"That would be awful," snapped Amarrah, sending him a glare.

"But she would be alive," Klaus pointed at her, still in thought.

"Yeah, but her connection to my coven doesn't exist anymore," Amarrah needed to remind. "Even if she's switched bodies, our spell was designed to carry it out no matter what."

"What about a wolf's body, then?" Hayley finally cut in, making them both look at her oddly. "Finn wouldn't be stupid enough to put her into a vampire's body. He'd be creating someone he couldn't control. Put her into a wolf's body and you've got a ticking time bomb if she doesn't wear his moonlight rings."

The idea was even more distraught-provoking.

"If she was placed into a wolf's body then she has a better chance of surviving than if she remained in her witch's body," Hayley added then noticed Amarrah's displeased look, "No offense."

"All taken," Amarrah said nonetheless, "Witches can do a lot of things, alright? We can-"

"Spare us the lecture, Amarrah," Klaus dismissed her with a wave and turned around to the settlement of wolves, "How do we begin the search, then? Mal can literally be anyone at this point."

"Well," Hayley stepped forwards and looked at the settlement herself, "There's no one missing here and all the other wolves are with Finn so…"

"Finn used one of his own," Klaus smirked at the idea, "That's gonna cost him in the long run - as well as be incredibly useful to us later on."

"Can we ask Aiden?" Amarrah thought to ask.

"No, he's completely out," Hayley shook her head, "They just turned in all the moonlight rings earlier. Finn wouldn't tell him anything anymore."

"So then how do we look for someone we don't even know?"

"I would assume the locator spell is out of the question?"

"You would assume right," Amarrah gave Hayley a nod before looking out to Klaus, "Any ideas?"

Klaus hated his answer and the reality of their situation, "I have no idea," and he despised not knowing what to do next.

~ 0 ~

"She's around here, her scent is strong. Look close, Kenzie," a young wolf told his other friend, a young woman, as they entered a small clearing.

"Alan is right, we better find her," a second woman emerged across the small plain they were in, "She's killed five of us now."

"She's not as stupid as we thought," the first woman, Kenzie, shook her head.

Just then, a bullet rang and the second woman was shot through the chest. As she fell to the ground, Kenzie and Alan looked up into the direction the bullet had come through. Maleny shot down from the top of a tree and fell upon Alan with a piece of branch in hand. It had been fastened into a sharper object, not a stake but enough to cause damage.

"What the - get off me!"

"NO!" she furiously screamed and stabbed the shaped branch into Alan's abdomen.

"Get the hell off him!" cried Kenzie. She lunged for Maleny and knocked her to the ground. She punched Maleny on the face before Maleny kicked her off.

Maleny scrambled to her feet and breathed in heavily, her lungs hurting from all the running she'd done, "Please, just go," she motioned, "I don't...I don't want to hurt anyone else...please. Just go."

Kenzie's eyes narrowed down on the brunette, "You killed my friends and you want me to let you go? Maybe you are as stupid as we thought. I don't care what Finn said to do, you're gonna die."

Maleny tried running off but the woman tackled her to the ground. Maleny felt her cardigan and part of her blouse rip with the force of the tackle. The next thing she knew Kenzie was raising her up from the ground and throwing her against a tree. The sharp jab of the bark hitting her back made Maleny scream. She was so tired by that point she wondered if there was even a chance she could perhaps escape.

Kenzie had left her to pick up the branch Maleny had dropped in with and looked it over, "You have good wood skills," she remarked and looked up at Maleny, "I suppose you learned this in one of your past lives?"

Maleny wearily looked at the branch and felt a lump in her throat as she remembered.

The village was celebrating a festival for the Gods full of dancing and eating and games of all sorts. But while everyone was gathered at the center to celebrate, Klaus preferred to stay on the outsides on his own. He'd once again had a falling out with Mikael that ended in a near fight if Esther hadn't intervened. The last thing Klaus wanted to do was celebrate some silly festival. He preferred where he was now, calmly carving onto the piece of wood he'd snagged earlier.

"I knew I would find you here," Maleny's voice made him look up from his work. The blonde was approaching him with a smile, "I was getting lonely out there, everyone dancing...you know Mateo asked me if I wanted to dance."

Klaus watched her sternly as she took a seat beside him, "...you said no right?" his tone implied a warning for the other man's fate based on her answer.

Maleny just smirked, "You should have been there," she replied and laughed when he grumbled and returned to his carving. Maleny propped an elbow on her lap to rest her chin on her palm, "What are you doing now?" she curiously asked.

"You'll have to wait until it's finished," Klaus answered and glanced at her to see her curiosity. She always liked his little creations even when they were things he'd quite literally made up. He stopped carving for a minute and smiled, "Do you want to try?" he offered.

Maleny's half widened at the idea, "I don't know how to do that stuff. I'll just ruin it for you."

Klaus laughed and pulled her closer to him, "It's actually quite simple," he assured her as she took the tool and wood piece.

"Easy for you to say. You've been at this since you were a kid," Maleny lightly squealed as Klaus pulled her onto his lap, "Klaus, someone will see us…" she blushed.

"Nah, they're all too focused on their festival," Klaus shook his head then smirked, "Besides, you're worth the trouble."

Maleny looked at him, blushing deeper, "Am I?"

"Definitely," he promised her with a sound kiss then proceeded to guide her through the carving manners as best as he could.

Maleny scrunched her nose and acquired new motivation to keep fighting, "Klaus taught me," she leaned off the tree, "And he taught me many other things!" she growled and lunged on the Kenzie. She grabbed the branch and slammed it over Kenzie's head, "I AM NOT LOSING!" Maleny gritted her teeth as she hit harder and harder.

By the time Kenzie had fallen Maleny was sobbing. She fell back on the ground and threw the bloody branch away from her. She pulled herself up to her feet and hugged herself, though quickly felt the fresh blood on her clothes then. She ran a hand through her messy, knotted hair and looked at the newest murder scene she was responsible for. She sniffled and ran off once again, hoping to finally find her way home.

~ 0 ~

Now at night, Rebekah had put her plan to escape the witches asylum. She'd roamed the upstairs floor for her friend's, Cassie, room since they were going to be escaping together. But when she found it completely empty she grew worried and rushed down the hallway in search of her. She noticed, however, the secret room holding Freya's coffin (though Rebekah didn't know it was Freya's coffin) was opened. She stepped inside to find one of the evil witches in charge was dead on the floor, her face covered in blood. Rebekah went for the coffin and cleared off some dust to see there was no girl inside anymore!

At the sound of creaks Rebekah turned around to see her friend Cassie walking in, bearing the same type of scars as the witches in charge bore.

Rebekah blinked, "Cassie. Cassie, where the hell have you...

"I'm sorry, Rebekah, but you didn't leave me much choice," the young teen said, "I told you, there's no escape. I had to turn to the only people I knew I could trust…" behind her came a swarm of witches with canes and fireplace pokers, "And I told them that they had to deal with you. My only regret is that I didn't stop you before you killed one of our own…" Cassie gestured to the dead witch in the room, "And now you have to be punished.

Rebekah stepped back, horrified at the betrayal, "No. I didn't kill her... though, to be fair, I won't miss the ugly cow. Hrrgh…" she wasn't about to let them take her back so she began to fight. She elbowed on witch on the face and kicked another on the legs. However, one managed to get her on the head and knocked her to the floor. Rebekah fell with a thud and was about to be hit again when the witch was flung to the wall. Rebekah raised her head to see Freya at the doorway, comically bored at the scene.

"You're all so mean," she frowned, "like the mouse that torments the cat in those cartoons. I think you're the ones who need to be punished," she raised her arms up and sent the other two witches into the walls. The remaining witch, Cassie backed away, but Freya was not going to let her free, "The others were just ignorant bullies but you, you're a smart girl, powerful, and yet you still betrayed a friend," she'd walked straight up to Cassie and grabbed her head, forcing an infliction pain on her head. Cassie screamed as blood poured from her eyes and nose until she eventually fell to the floor, dead.

"I despise traitors," Freya declared in a nonchalant tone then turned to the first dead witch and snatched back her necklace that had been taken earlier.

Rebekah had watched the entire scene in silence on the floor and wondered if she was to be afraid as well. Freya noticed her sister's bandaged hand so she took it into her own hands and healed it with with a spell.

Rebekah rose to her feet and flexed her hand, "How did you do that?" Freya smiled but instead of answering she led the way out of the room.

Rebekah was stunned as they literally walked out of the asylum without a problem. Freya had used her magic to open telekinetically the doors of the place and led Rebekah down the front porch steps.

"You're her, the all-powerful girl in the coffin…" Rebekah had slowly began to realize, "That's how you did magic... But why didn't you just tell me?"

Freya stopped walking and looked back, "I'd only just woken from a century of sleep. I wanted to know you, see what you were really like, and you didn't disappoint me. There's a spark in your, Rebekah. You're willful, also kind. You're not half as bad as our brothers."

Rebekah raised her eyebrows, "What did you say?

"You're right, you know. We met once before…" Freya continued to smile, "Christmas party in 1914. I was so desperate to catch a glimpse of my family, I even made a friend. Rebekah, you know who I am."

"You're the girl in my nightmare. It really is you…" Rebekah breathed in, her eyes becoming shiny with tears, "Freya."

Freya continued walking towards the gates and gripped her hands around bars, casting a spell, "Destruccive glas enfala. Destruccive glas enfala," the spell that had been used to keep witches inside the asylum was brought down in a snap. Freya turned to Rebekah afterwards, "I slept 100 years, and now finally, I'm free. Tell our brothers I'll be coming to see them soon, and I expect nothing less than their best behavior," she telekinetically ripped the gates off their hinges and then walked out, "First, I have to pay my respects to a fallen friend at the cemetery," she said quietly and started down the sidewalk, barefoot.

Rebekah stared after her in awe and confusion. She then started on her own journey back to the compound, running as fast as she could. She had so much to tell the others and frankly she was itching to slap Kol on the face for his little prank. But when she reached the compound she was confused to find all the lights off and basically no one home.

"Nik?" she called out in the middle of the courtyard, but no one answered, "Elijah?"

Where the hell was everyone?

"Hayley!" she called again and decided to go upstairs. It was then she missed her super hearing which would save her the time of searching. Just as she was reaching the stairs, she heard low groans from the entrance of the compound. Slowly, she peered out to the entrance and saw the shadow figure of a woman leaning against a wall, using it to get herself inside.

"Klaus?" she was calling as well, her voice shaky and frankly in fear, "Klaus, where are you?"

Rebekah began walking for the woman, intrigued by the unknown woman, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Maleny raised her head to see the dark-skinned woman with black, curly hair and frowned, "Who are you and why are you in here? What did you do to him? What did you do to Klaus?"

Rebekah could see the woman was injured and thus unable to put up any fight. Of course then she saw the moonlight ring and stepped back, "You're one of Finn's wolves, aren't you? I swear to God I'm getting Finn for this...though he may have to wait in line for Kol."

Maleny raised an eyebrow and momentarily forgone her current problem to really look at the woman in front of her, "R-Rebekah? Is that you? This is the body Kol put you in?"

Rebekah frankly didn't like seeing the strange woman know so much about her, "How do you know that?"

Maleny's eyes teared up again, "Rebekah, it's me," she gestured to herself, "It's Mal…" Rebekah's eyes widened, "Finn...he did this to me," and after such an awful day Maleny finally burst into sobs.

Rebekah caught the brunette before she fell forwards and while confused she simply held Maleny closer, feeling that the woman needed a sisterly hug.

~ 0 ~

Barefoot, Freya had found her way to the Lafayette cemetery on her own. She'd done a spell to locate her friend's gravestone but was confused to find the location being in a plot area that read 'Dawson' instead.

Stumbling back with a deep scowl, she glared at the plots. "We meet again," she muttered.

[slytherin-puffskein]

twelve ways to fall in love with you.

the signs as moments falling in love | requests closed

from @cinnamonriko:

scorpio: It was when I found myself wanting to tell you things I didn’t share with anyone else. You had sat there expectantly, and openly- like you’d wait all day if you had to. And when I told you you didn’t leave, you understood.

- - -

signs completed: capricorn - scorpio

- - -

Usually, Barnaby Lee found himself enjoying Valentine’s Day. The cute dates, the kisses, the gifts, what else could be better than an entire day solely dedicated to spoiling your significant other? Literally nothing, at least to his eyes. However, this day was now reduced to nothing as he was officially single. Four months thrown down the drain, with no consideration nor apologies. He couldn’t boast over the fact that he had easily gotten over it, however, because it would have been a lie. It had been hard, perilous even, but he had managed to claw his way out of all these unpleasant feelings and get back on his daily routine. He was healing. Slowly, but surely.

He knew of this pain, and promised himself to help whoever experiencing it. And so, when it came to his knowledge that Laurent King was dealing with the same emotional storm, he just had to intervene. As soon as he had received the news he had showed up at his apartment, his shoulder ready for him to cry on and his ears free to listen to every woes. The first night had been long. Painful, even. Murphy McNully, this single name kept slipping out of Laurent’s lips, decorated with uneven sobs and choked back words the redhead didn’t dare to add. Barnaby couldn’t blame him: most of it was probably too personal to talk about. He was his best friend, but there were still many things he didn’t, couldn’t know yet.

“I don’t understand.” Laurent had sniffled, his face buried in the crook of his neck while the TV was playing in front of them. “I don’t understand at all...”

“It’s ok, Laurent. I’m here... I’m here”

He couldn’t help but scoff at that memory. I’m here. As if that was a good way to comfort him. Words wouldn’t have been sufficient at that very moment, so he had resorted to listen at last. My parents never bothered about my advice, why would he? And what kind of advice do I have anyway, me who got dumped only a few months ago? Talk about a bad joke.

Days became weeks, weeks became months, and now was their first Valentine’s Day without a partner to share it with. No cute dates to go on, no compliments to give out, no kisses to offer. It definitely put a weight on their hearts, threatening to crush it when least expected.

But Barnaby had a plan.

- - -

Laurent had his entire evening planned out: a well deserved glass of wine along with a bunch of good movies to watch, all of this preceding a long, warm bubble bath. What else could possibly top this? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

A wistful voice crept in his mind anyway. You damn fool, you know there is much more enjoyable than this. Remember your first Valentine’s Day with Murphy? You two had so much fun. A candlelit dinner in your favourite restaurant followed by a romantic stargazing session. What happened once you guys got back home was a lot of fun as well-- He immediately cut off his thoughts, gently slapping his cheek and mentally cursing himself. Shut up, shut up! Who said Valentine’s Day was for couples anyway, huh? I’ll enjoy it with my own damn self! He wasn’t convinced, however. 

He had slipped into his most comfortable pyjamas and was choosing which movie to watch as his doorbell suddenly rang, prompting him to almost jump in fear. Bewilderment reading itself on his face he approached the door and checked into the peep hole, his muscles relaxing as soon as he recognized Barnaby’s face. A question reigned in his mind still: what is he doing there? Soon enough the door creaked open, and Laurent was greeting Barnaby inside.

It didn’t take long before he started swarming him with questions: What are you doing here? Everything alright? It’s so cold outside, why are you only wearing that coat? Barnaby only had that damn smile etched on his face, however, and despite Lau’s frustration due to not having any decent answers, he couldn’t help but feel a delightful flutter in his chest.

As he removed his coat, Barnaby finally decided to explain himself: “I assumed you wouldn’t like to spend the evening alone.” He admitted, red blossoming over his cheeks. “So I decided to keep you company... and...” A pause, and then he shook his head. I can’t lie to him. “Well... I... I didn’t want to spend the evening alone. As for you, I dunno, but I had hoped- well not hoped, I didn’t hope you were sad, more like--” And he was stumbling with his words again. For a reason yet unknown to him it always occurred when he was near Laurent.

Before he could try and come up with a decent sentence, Laurent was speaking: “I... I must say, I didn’t really like the thought of being alone as well.” The redhead confessed. “I mean, y’know what day it is... brings back memories.” And he trailed off, once again avoiding to reveal any more information to Barnaby. He knew it was unfair to keep so much from his friend, but... he wasn’t ready to bare himself just yet. He wasn’t ready to fully let go of his relationship with Murphy. Would he ever be? He had no idea. I loved him so much... and now it’s all reduced to dust.

Suddenly, he felt Barnaby’s hand land on his shoulder, and words clung to his throat as they found themselves unable to make their way out. He could only stare at his smile. “Well, I guess it’s your lucky day, then!” Barnaby exclaimed. “I’ll chase away these bad memories, let’s enjoy this evening together!” And suddenly his gaze landed towards Laurent’s bedroom. “What were you planning to do?”

Laurent immediately guessed what Barnaby was thinking about, and a smile finally curved his lips. “Movie night. I know for a fact that you...”

“... Love them.” Barnaby completed. “Yes! How about we check a few of them out, hm?” A glint of excitement passed through his eyes.

“Let’s.” Lau replied at last. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

- - -

It turned out that Barnaby had another trick up his sleeve, and it revealed itself in the form of a box he pulled out of his bag. “Ta-da! I stopped by your favourite donut shop and got us a few things! What’s better than movies? Movies and donuts! You’ll thank me later~”

“We should make this a tradition.” Laurent commented as they both sat down on his bed. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy this more than I am supposed to.”

He was already smiling and giggling, and the sparkles usually inhabiting his eyes had come back at last. That sight proved itself to be a real comfort to Barnaby, the fondness with which he was staring at his friend only confirming it. For once, Laurent wasn’t thinking about Murphy and their disastrous breakup. He was focusing on the present, filled with good movies and donu-- his face fell as Barnaby opened the box.

Green, matcha glazed donuts were part of the mix. Otherwise known as Murphy McNully’s favourites. It took a few seconds for Laurent to snap back into reality and realize that Barnaby has been calling out his name with worry decorating his features. Laurent blinked one, two times. “Ah, sorry, I... I spaced out, I guess.” His gaze swiftly drifted away from the donuts. “Matcha flavour was Murphy... Murphy’s favourite. His favourite colour is green, of course it had to be his...” He trailed off, unable to continue. His heart threatened to squeeze itself in his chest and eventually blow up, his brain was assaulted with thunders of painful memories, his hands felt cold... and suddenly he was looking at Barnaby again.

Barnaby, who looked as if he had just learned he had accidentally committed the world’s biggest crime. “I’m sorry!” He blurted out. “I-I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to, I--”

Luckily enough Laurent was quick to interrupt him. Giggles even punctuated his words. “It’s fine, Barnaby. You didn’t know...” Without a warning he suddenly reached for his hand, their fingers slowly intertwining together. “Thank you. Really. These strawberry glazed ones look super tasty...”

That was sufficient to appease Barnaby, and Laurent felt better as well. As soon as their fingers linked together he has been feeling lighter, in fact. Let’s watch a movie, now. Let’s watch a movie and forget about our shitty relationships. Memories of Barnaby’s breakup with his ex girlfriend suddenly rushed through him, and he saw himself in that same bedroom a few months ago, comforting a tearful Barnaby. Man, the turntables. Now he’s the one comforting me... is he still sad about his breakup? It’s Valentine’s Day after all. He must feel melancholic... however he feels, I’ll give him support. He deserves it.

With that in mind he squeezed his hand, and he chose a movie at last.

“Are you sure a romantic movie is what you need?” Has been Barnaby’s first question.

“I’ll be fine, Barnaby. How about you?” You always ask about me. Let me ask about you.

Barnaby nodded, stuffing a donut in his mouth and then replying: “Yup!”

Laurent jokingly smacked Barnaby’s arm, laughing. “You’re so gross, swallow before speaking!” How ironic, since he has been eating a donut and talking as well.

- - -

Curled up against Barnaby as he would always do when watching TV with him, countless thoughts swirled inside of Laurent’s mind thus preventing him to properly enjoy the movie. He couldn’t make out whatever the actors were saying, and suddenly, as they reached the middle of the movie Laurent reached for the remote and hit the ‘pause’ button. Silence greeted them, and Barnaby stared at Lau with confusion. “Everything alright...?”

A nod, and then some more silence before Laurent finally spoke up: “I was so in love with him.” His voice was down to a murmur, but he knew Barnaby would hear it anyway.

And he did. “I know.”

“I just... it all happened so fast. One day I was madly in love, and the other he breaks up with me. He told me it wasn’t my fault, he--” He suddenly stopped speaking, and locked his gaze with Barnaby’s.

Time froze as they both tried to decipher what messages the other’s eyes contained. Neither of them managed to find anything, and it was probably better this way. For Laurent, at least, for he had figured out he wanted to talk to Barnaby. Not simply look at him, talk. He wanted to tell him about his relationship, and hopefully let go at once.

A last look in Barnaby’s eyes was enough to convince Laurent, for what he saw revealed everything: he was ready to listen to him. He was ready to try to understand. He was ready to sit for hours if it were to take that much time. And so, he started speaking. He poured out his heart. He told him about how great his relationship with Murphy had felt, but also how the impression everything would go wrong had kept gnawing at him. He had tried to deny it for as long as he could, but it eventually hit him straight on the face as their breakup finally occurred. He was too much. Too much his opposite. Murphy liked calculations and percentages, Laurent liked spur of the moment actions and carelessness. Water and fire don’t mix, and the same could be said about Laurent King and Murphy McNully.

He had expected it, yes, but it devastated him anyway. He had thought he would have been enough. He had thought it would have been alright. He had loved Murphy for the way he was, but Murphy had failed doing the same. “But can I blame him?” Laurent suddenly said. “I’m... I’m so... so me, and I’m so different than him... but still, I... I guess it is selfish of me to say this, but... I had wished I would have been good enough for him. Turned out I wasn’t. Probably will never be...”

Silence. He didn’t know how to express himself anymore, so he had resorted to shutting himself up. Barnaby, however, had loads to say as he held him closer, his arms curling around his waist in a comforting embrace. “I know how you feel...” These words felt like a punch to Laurent. Really? How would he know? Wasn’t his past relationship ideal? Wasn’t their breakup mutual? Yes, he had cried... but everyone cries during breakups at some point. You cry because you’re missing a part of yourself. It’s like someone removed a limb of yours: it hurts, so you cry.

He stared as Barnaby chewed on his bottom lip. “I didn’t tell you everything about my own breakup. I... I didn’t live up to my own expectations either. I told you we agreed on breaking up... but it was mostly because I was disappointed with myself. Because...” He held back his breath, as if he was struggling with to find the right words. As a sign of support Laurent reached for his hand. “I figured out I might like guys more instead of girls. You know I like boys as well as girls, but I never told you what caused that realization. It was kissing her while thinking of how it would feel if she were a boy... I supposed I fell out of love, and it made me feel like the world’s worst asshole”

Confessions, confessions, they came one after the other. Sometimes from Lau, sometimes from Barnaby, sometimes both telling them at the same time. Revisiting these old memories hurt, but also relieved them of a huge weight that has been pressing on their shoulders. When they finished speaking they felt good. They felt light.

And Barnaby understood how Laurent felt.

And Laurent understood how Barnaby felt.

“I must admit, I miss being in a relationship.” Laurent shyly confessed as he hit ‘play’ on the remote.

“Me too... I miss cuddling someone.”

“I miss kissing someone. It feels so... heavenly.”

“It feels perfect with the right person.”

And they were now looking at each other. Barnaby’s eyes flicked to Laurent’s lips. Laurent’s eyes flicked to Barnaby’s lips. “Wanna... wanna try it out?” The words slipped out of the redhead’s mouth. “Just to pretend we actually had some action during Valentine’s Day.” He added with a giggle to lighten the atmosphere.

A blush brightly coloured Barnaby’s cheeks for a moment, and Laurent was quick to fear that he had fucked up. There you go, now he’s going to think I’m a pervert. 

However, against all expectations, Barnaby nodded. “Y-Yes...” He stammered a little before speaking again: “I’d love to... I’ll be able to brag that I kissed the prettiest guy on Valentine’s Day.”

Laurent’s eyes widened at that claim, but he realized that Barnaby probably wasn’t even aware he had said this out loud. Instead of discussing this he remained silent and allowed Barnaby to inch closer. His arms tightened their grip around Laurent’s waist, and a gasp of surprise threatened to fall off his lips. Instead, he cupped Barnaby’s face and smiled teasingly. “You seem pretty eager.”

A blush blossomed over his friend’s features, and he stumbled with his words a little before finally coming up with a coherent sentence: “A-Are you ok with this, Lau? Kisses should... mean something.”

Laurent’s reply came without a moment of hesitation. “And what would this one mean for you? To me, it would be... moving on, I guess. Get into another chapter and leave Murphy behind for once. How about you?”

Silence lingered in the air as Barnaby didn’t answer, and what he had planned to reply shall remain a mystery as Laurent suddenly tugged on his shirt’s collar to pull him into a kiss. Immediately, a wave of comfort came to wash over the both of them as they curved into each other’s body, living the kiss at it’s fullest.

Neither of them wished to pull away.

- - -

The next morning, Laurent woke up to Barnaby’s steady heartbeat. He had fallen asleep on his chest, and donut crumbs were all over it. A quick look at his friend was all it took to confirm that he was still sleeping. After a few seconds of hesitation, he decided to not pull away. He even closed his eyes.

Following their kiss, they had focused back on the movie. Little words have been said, as if both of them had mulled over what had just happened. Had it been a mistake? Would they regret it? Laurent had feared how he would feel the next morning. But at this very moment, as he was curled up against Barnaby, absolutely no regret came to seize him.

I told him everything. I told him about my fears, my insecurities, the downsides of my relationship with Murphy. I told him everything I had feared revealing, and his reaction? Complete understanding. He even admitted stuff to me as well. It felt so... so right. So perfect. Just like him.

And the kiss. It had it’s hold on his mind still. Suddenly, Barnaby moved a little, and pulled Laurent closer while still sleeping. The redhead’s heart threatened to leap off his chest, and that was when he knew.

I like him.

I’m so screwed.

[yourklaw123]

Copied ::  okay what you will about Pierre Trudeau – and you may say many negative things about a man who deliberately chose to spend the Second World War sitting on the sidelines; who shilled for Red China while it murdered tens of millions of people, who was a life-long apologist for Soviet Communism, who began a relationship with a teenager when he was already an old man, who nearly spent Canada into bankruptcy, who tried to steal the wealth of the West and ruined a generation of Albertans, whose quest for personal glory nearly broke the Canadian federation, and who recklessly fathered a daughter when he was a septuagenarian and therefore left a little girl of nine without a father when he died – but it is beyond dispute that he was at least a very intelligent man. It is true that he was also a cold; reckless, and destructive man, but there was definitely something there. Of Justin it may be said that he has managed to inherit all of the flaws of his father – his recklessness; his arrogance, his willingness to apologize to and appease enemies of our civilization, and his almost unique ability to be wrong about every issue of significance. Whether or not he inherited the other qualities of his parents – that is to say whether his personal life is as dissolute and debauched as that of his father – is not currently a matter of public record, but I imagine that it will be soon enough. However, it can be said with certainty that J.Trudeau did not inherit his father’s sole virtue: everything that is already in the public record suggests that Justin Trudeau is a profoundly stupid man whose only qualification to be Prime Minister is that he has a famous name. That he should, at this particular juncture in history, be elected Prime Minister of Canada ought to shame all Canadians. What, pray tell, has this man ever accomplished in his entire life? His biography is available for all to read. Young Master Trudeau, so far as I can tell, has never held anything resembling a real job for any length of time. His biography describes him as having been a teacher, but he was still a substitute teacher at least as late as 1999 (he worked at my High School) and he appears to have begun a never-completed graduate degree in 2002. Before that – when he was already in his mid-twenties – he was a ski bum in Whistler. In other words, this Prime Minister appears to have – at the absolute most – had about three years of full-time work experience before seeking to lead the nation. This man never led anything in his entire life. Quite literally he doesn't have the requisite experience on his resume to be hired as the Manager of a Starbucks. Indeed, to be very clear, the last sentence wasn't intended to be at all insulting to anyone who either manages or works for Starbucks – I'm a frequent customer and it is, by all accounts, a very challenging job. But, surely, we can all agree that Prime Minister is a job that requires at least the same level of previous management experience as Starbucks management. Consider all that you have achieved in your own life. Most of you, I presume, are from a background rather like myself. That is to say that you are from middle class families and had to earn your way through life. You had to work to pay your way through school. You had to worry about paying the rent, about saving money for a down payment, about how much of a mortgage that you could afford. Most of you have probably worked bad jobs or taken work beneath your education and dignity because you simply needed the money. Some of you probably missed out on having fun – on ski trips to pick one relevant example – either because you could not afford them or because you simply had to work. That, you and I probably both believe, is simply a natural part of life. All of that is quite foreign to Justin Trudeau. Now, I am both a conservative and a capitalist. I do not begrudge or resent great wealth and privilege in and of itself. One of the primary aims of my own life is to eventually earn (and manage to keep, in the face of a rapacious state) enough so that the next generation of Yoshidas doesn't have to make compromises when it comes to fundamental life decisions for financial reasons. I think that people have a right to earn as much as they can and to pass that along to their children. But, as the children of privilege get to enjoy certain advantages in life, so do I believe that those to whom much is given have a profound moral responsibility to contribute to the world in some fashion in exchange for all that they have been given in life. And what, we ought to inquire, has J.Trudeau done with his life and privileges? His accomplishments such as they are – eternal years as a student; two partially-completed Masters degrees, and perhaps a few years of work experience – are scant when compared with those of the average middle-class Canadian of modest means and background. I could literally walk down the street outside of my home and pick out a hundred random people with more work experience, education, and life experience than J.Trudeau has. When you consider that this man is the child of a multi-millionaire and carries arguably the most famous name in Canada, his below-average record is particularly shameful. This man had every single advantage that it is possible for a young Canadian to have and that is all that he could do with his life? In general, I view the idle rich to be more objects of pity than deserving of hatred. That calculation however, changes rather rapidly when they aspire, as J.Trudeau does, to translate that unearned privilege into power over the rest of us. If “Justin Trudeau” were instead “Justin Thompson” it’s pretty safe to assume that he'd be collecting EI and writing a screenplay on a battered laptop at some local coffee shop. The only reason why we are threatened with this man in 24 Sussex is that he carries a famous surname. It is the greatest of ironies that so much of the support for this particular man came from the sort of people who spend the rest of their time re-blogging articles on “white privilege.” Now, as Canada prepares to join the fight against ISIS and the other Islamic barbarians who threaten our people and way of life, we see that J.Trudeau intends to use his unearned privileges to carry on his father’s tradition of serving as an apologist for and appeaser of all of the enemies of our civilization. In this he is, most regrettably, simply carrying on in the long tradition of a Quebec political establishment whose behaviour in the face of our enemies has long been disgraceful and immoral. Just as the Quebec political establishment took seditious, and at times, almost traitorous positions in the face of the German threat in both World Wars (shameful episodes that are somehow generally hushed-up in the retelling of our history),today J.Trudeau is, as his father once was, on the other side in the great crusade for civilization. It is grating on my nerves to know that Quebec is subsidized by the Canadian government to the tune of $16 billion dollars. If you think rest of our Canadian provinces get any of this largesse, you are mistaken!! Justin Trudeau in 24 Sussex – will likely be fatal for the Canadian Federation. How long do you think, in this day and age, will the Western Provinces remain willing to accept the dictates of a Quebec-controlled government hostile to the very basis of its entire economy? This child doesn't have the political skills or the experience to navigate such a potentially-perilous situation; for not only is he unfit to lead the nation, but he is also an unworthy successor to his predecessors as Leader of the Liberal Party who, for all of their many faults, were at least men of accomplishment and substance. If you believe in individual merit – if you believe that we should have a country where accomplishments matter more than your name – then we should have rejected this haughty and arrogant child who would presume to rule over us all.

[wafflesetc]

I’ll be there for you II- Chapter 3 (previous chapters)

Big thanks to @missclairebelle and @happytoobservenolongerdistant for the tag team Katie/Katy beta’ing for me! I couldn’t have done it without you both. And to @thatsoccercoach and @walkinginland who have been ever encouraging with this story! I hope this chapter has been worth the wait.

The One with the Genetic Testing

I was quiet as I entered the apartment.

My feet were sore, my eyelids were so heavy I thought I was going to fall asleep standing upright, and by some audacious miracle I had a major headache to top it all off.

I was a literal, walking, hot mess. The night shift rotations were going to be the death of me.

“Ye’re home a little earlier than I thought ye’d be.” Jamie’s voice was soft and welcoming as I sank into the couch opposite from where he sat.

“It was a light night. A few admits, a few stitches, one trauma…” I answered bringing my feet up underneath me.

“C’mere.” He said in that one tone of his Highland lilt that was reserved just for me.

Jamie reached across the couch and brought my feet onto his lap. I saw the tips of his ears flash red and a devilish grin spread across his face.

“If you are about to rub my feet,” I nearly groaned in eager anticipation, “Then I am going to love you more than I did before I left for work last night.”

He snorted at that and moved to the balls of my feet. “Ye say that every time I massage yer feet.”

I laughed as I undid the bun on top of my head, letting my three day unwashed hair down.

“You try growing a human and being on your feet all night. It is bloody hard work!”

He let out a Scottish grunt of amusement and continued to rub the tender soles of my feet.

Lost in the healing powers of his touch, all the fears and worries about becoming a mother started to fade away. For a split second, I could see it- us in a house, the Highland hills rolling in the background with a Flash of the Fraser red hair from a small child. I could see a future I had almost never thought I’d have.

After a few silent moments with nothing said between us, I opened my eyes and saw a pensive look on Jamie’s face as he studied me.

Finally he spoke with nothing but utter confidence, “Ye’ll be great, Claire.”

He seldom used my name and whenever Jamie did call me- Claire- it was always something he meant to the marrow of his bones.

Feeling suddenly and overwhelmingly that some of my deepest insecurities had been exposed, I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.

He started at me for a moment and traced the outline of my face, “Mo Chridhe.”

“Wot?” My voice was clipped, properly British.

Before we were together I knew Jamie was a man who was very in tune with his emotions, as well as those people he was close to.

Jamie Fraser knew me- knew what made me tick, how I thought, how I processed emotions, and why I made the decisions that I did.

I had been, somewhat, aware of just how in tune he was, but it wasn’t until we were romantically involved where I became accustomed to the fact he was hyper aware of just how well he knew me.

He knew me, my mind, and more so, he knew my soul. There were things in this world where my rational and scientific mind couldn’t process or find the words, yet he was there, and he could always find a way to say what was in his heart.

I’d be inclined to say Jamie Fraser knew me better than I knew myself.

He saw right through me. He saw right through the veneer of confidence I had been trying to keep afloat since I found out we were having a child. His unwavering support and faith in me made me feel cherished and safe…. Like we could do this.

“How did you know?” I put a small smile on in my best effort to hide my fear.

If I were to be honest with myself, I had never truly envisioned myself being a mother. My own parents had died when I was merely in grade school. I had been shipped off to live with my mother’s brother- Uncle Lamb. He traveled the world as an archaeologist, and when a child had been bestowed upon him, he had decided to bring me along. Uncle Lamb homeschooled me through all our adventures. We spent summers in Egypt, took hikes through Greece’s ancient ruins, went backpacking through remote parts of Central America, and spent weekends in Paris while he was at a conferences.

It was because of Uncle Lamb I had seen the ends of the world and all it had to offered. I had seen the wealthy, the poor, the healthy, and the sick. I had learned at a young age that I had been given a gift- a gift of healing- and had set my determined, stubborn mind, to put my gift to use.

Uncle Lamb was all I had really ever had in the world, and just as my parents had left me, so did he- passing away when I was eighteen. To honor his memory and the experiences he had given me, I had set out to go to medical school, score the best residency, and become a world-renowned physician. It would be me and my medicine- me and myself. The mere idea of motherhood scared the living daylights out of me. I wasn’t going to be a mother- that just was not in the cards for Claire Beauchamp.

That had been my plan, until Jamie Fraser moved in.

Jamie had changed and challenged everything I thought I had wanted for myself. He was the hope for the things I had given up on, he was the second chance I never knew I wanted.

When I looked into his ocean-blue eyes, I saw a future rooted in a firm foundation. A permanence in a life that I felt like I didn’t deserve, but by the grace of some deity above, I had been granted.

“The line of yer brows, Sassenach. When ye get worried, it creases.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck my legs back out onto his lap. “No fair. I have tells and you don’t. My damn glass face.”

“It’s one of the verra many things I adore about ye, Sassenach… But,” He took a breath and I felt his hands work their way to massaging my feet again, “Ye must ken it, right? Ye’ll be a good mam… What ye don’t ken, ye’ll learn… And we’ll learn it together, aye?”

“Aye.” I took my right foot and prodded him in the stomach.

“I am being honest, I give ye my word. Ye remind me of Jenny when she first had her bairn. She was worried about it all- having the bairn, raising it, the whole lot. But she’s a verra fine mother, Claire.” Jamie took my leg and raised it to his face, kissing the back of my calf. “There’s nay soul I’d want to be the mother of my children, other than you.”

I held my breath for a moment, hanging onto his words.

“Children?” I stammered, “As in plural?”

“Yes,” He laughed. His hands moving their way up my legs in a circular motion. “I’d love to field a whole rugby team. A dozen or so.”

“Twelve children, then?” If he had said this to me two years ago, I would have run for the hills, scared out of my mind, but now….I was more than willing to try and field a Fraser Rugby Team if he asked me to.

“If ye’re willing….”

“As long as you’re by my side.”  

We finished our sentences at the same time. I swung my legs back under me and twisted myself so my head rested on his chest.

“I do love you, you know.”

“I ken..” He kissed my temple. “I also ken there is something else bothering ye.”

“Yes…” My voice was quiet and I felt mildly embarrassed. “You know your family. Your mom, your dad, grandparents, sister…..”

“Yes.” His voice encouraged me to go on.

“And you know what your gene pool is like, for the most part. My parents died young, Uncle Lamb only told me so much before he died, and I am basically the last line of the Beauchamps as far as I know.”

“And?”

“It got me thinking….I was hoping you would be okay with the option of getting some genetic testing done on the baby? It’s minimally invasive. Of course there are risks, as there are with any medical procedure, but it is done all the time these days”

I felt his body stiffen in response.

“It’s not that I think anything is wrong, I don’t, but rationally, scientifically…. But I want to know. I just want to make sure our child is healthy. I know you might not be inclined to do it, religious reasons and just pure faith in our baby being okay… But I’d like to know, and I wanted to ask you. I want you to be there.”

I heard him swallow and let out his breath. A moment passed and then another. “Ye ken, Sassenach… I dinna think it necessary, our bairn will be healthy.”

I could hear the lingering but in his tone.

“Yet, I also ken ye will fret over this for months if ye dinna do it and I understand why ye want to do it. Tell me when and where…. Wherever ye need me, I’ll show up.”

It was in that moment I loved him wildly, maddly, and deeper than ever before. There was no man who would ever compare to Jamie Fraser in my world.

“I will,” I kissed the base of his jaw, “Right now just hold me… Everything else can wait.”

[ashleyspinelliburnbook]

S1E6: My Fair Gretchen/Speedy, We Hardly Knew Ye

Me, literally one recap ago: “When are we gonna get a good Gretchen episode?”

Me, today, looking at the title of the next episode and refusing to be embarrassed: “WELL, FINALLY”

My Fair Gretchen

The most pressing revelation here is that “Recess” apparently takes place in Arkansas, as the episode begins with Miss Finster handing out the Arkansas Standard Achievement Test.

Beyond that, this is a lovely ~ironic subversion~ of the “My Fair Lady” trope. Let me explain: “My Fair Lady” is all about turning Eliza Doolittle into a more acceptable member of high society, right? Turning her from Cockney to, well, refined?

Here, we’ve got Gretchen, who’s by no means a member of high society, but the goal isn’t to get her there either. See, Gretchen is smart — very smart — to the point that she gets a perfect score on the ASAT. She’s called into Principal Prickly’s office, where she learns that she has the opportunity to go to Oppenheimer Elementary for the Incredibly, Extremely Gifted. (Of course, Prickly has a vested interest in this too. If two more of his kids go there, he gets that job at Spiro Agnew Middle School!)

But...Gretchen doesn’t really want to go to Oppenheimer. Her mom is excited to hear the news, but it just makes Gretchen sad. And when she tells her friends she’s on the fence about what she’s learned, they decide to take action.

After Gretchen takes one last walk around the school, saying goodbye to the swingset, the graffiti, and the rancid fish sticks in the dumpster, she gets home to find...the gang! And they’ve got a plan to de-smart her so that when she goes in front of the Oppenheimer review board the next day, they’ll have no choice but to turn her down.

“I’ve been trying to dumb myself down ever since kindergarten,” Gretchen says, to which TJ replies, “This time, you’ve got experts on your side.”

“Yo, Prickly,” New Gretchen says as she walks into the gym for her review. After a whirlwind day of trying new looks (courtesy of the Diggers, the Ashleys, the kindergarteners), she shows up in, um, I’m not a fashion person but she’s coming off as very...not this decade? Wow, helpful.

So yeah, instead of going for “refined,” we get, well, the opposite of that. But here, it’s also the socially acceptable landing point. Instead of being a super-genius who aces standardized tests, Gretchen is now...just like any other kid.

The board, pictured above, asks Gretchen a handful of trivia questions, and she gets them all spectacularly wrong (“Who was the 14th president of the United States?” “Dennis Rodman?”). From outside, the gang celebrates her achievement...until the plan backfires.

A humiliated Principal Prickly accuses Gretchen of cheating on the exam, and Gretchen can’t help but recite all of the correct answers to their questions, in order, with perfect accuracy. Albert Einstein (you see him, come on) asks why she was hiding her intelligence, and she explains she doesn’t want to go to the new school. The board banishes Prickly to the hallway, where he and the gang await Gretchen’s fate.

When they emerge, Einstein explains that Gretchen convinced the board that there's more to education than book-learnin’ (which sort of reminds me of “Bart the Genius,” where Bart initially tries to convince the gifted school he has cheated his way into to let him go back to his old school undercover, “to see what makes ‘em tick”).

The board suggests the school instead implement a tutorial program, and the episode ends with Gretchen teaching...a room full of teachers. As it should be.

Takeaway: Every time I see an episode about a gifted kid/genius kid, I think about all the memes that go, like, “if you were ever a ‘gifted kid’ in school, you’re depressed now,” and...yeah. Imagine having all this pressure to succeed in fourth grade, you know?

Speedy, We Hardly Knew Ye

(Today in “trying something new on the blog,” I want to share something I wrote a few years ago that pretty much says what I would have written here anyway. The episode is about the class hamster, Speedy, dying, and how the kids react to it.)

In middle school, I had two opportunities to take part in Challenge Day, a day-long anti-bullying program meant to bring to the forefront all the deeply personal things that participants have in common, all while celebrating their diversity and inspiring them to dismantle the structure that causes these differences to drive them apart.

Being middle schoolers — 11-, 12-, and 13-year-olds in the thick of maintaining childhood friendships, facing new encounters, and experiencing puberty — there was a wide range of expectations for the event and the reactions throughout it. Many students saw the day solely as an opportunity to be able to skip school, while several of us read the material given to us with our permission slips and at least vaguely understood that our emotions — and our beliefs — would be tested.

The first time I did Challenge Day was in sixth grade, and at first, my primary concern was that my best friend and had been separated, relegated to participating on different days. But when the 100 or so of us entered the gym, whose windows had been blacked out to avoid any interruptions from the other 300 students on campus, the specially-trained Challenge Day leaders made every opportunity to pull us out of our comfort zones right away. Suddenly, we were sprinting within a massive circle of chairs, instructed to find a new seat, and found ourselves sitting between two people we’d never met to whom we would then have to introduce ourselves.

Eventually, we split into small groups of 6 or 7 — similarly randomly assigned, paired with a parent volunteer — and talked more candidly about our worries, how we truly felt going to school every day, and even our personal tragedies. The point here was to prove that we were able to open up to a group of strangers following all of the icebreaker activities we’d completed. And, from what my friend had told me after completing her Challenge Day the previous day, this portion of the day was where everyone started crying. While a good number of the students who were just happy to have the day off from school didn’t take this part seriously, I really wanted to – and luckily, both times, my group was just as keen.

I don’t much remember what I shared at that first Challenge Day, but in eighth grade I was dealing with both that friend’s sudden move to a school two hours away and the death of my hamster, my first real pet, and I felt I had a lot to talk about. The students in my group were very receptive to what I had to say, and one even took me aside after we moved on from the small group activities and complimented my candidness, saying I was very brave to cry for my friend and my pet.

Unfortunately, the parent volunteer in our group was less sympathetic. On the Challenge Day website, it states that volunteers receive a quick overview of the day before students arrive, and that’s it. Sadly, you can’t teach sympathy in half an hour. When I almost immediately starting sobbing about my troubles and was met with kindness by my fellow middle school-aged group members, this woman promptly interrupted me.

“Are you sure you’re not just getting caught up in the emotions, sweetheart?” she asked, her attempted pleasantness pierced by skepticism. “At your age, you’re too old to be crying about hamsters and one lost friend. There are more hamsters, and there are more friends.”

What could I do? I was a shy, insecure 13-year-old who was clearly overwhelmed by my own hardships — albeit comparatively minute to what some members of the group had shared — and all this woman could do was point out my perceived weaknesses and trivialize feelings I thought were legitimate and sincere. So I gave in. I nodded.

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed, her face lit up in victory. “You need to learn to be stronger. That’s what today is all about. Let’s move on to someone else.”

Of course, because of the quiet, non-confrontational person I was — and still, only 13, barely beginning to emotionally mature — I let her words sink in. I entirely believed that what I had shared was completely out of line, and rebuked myself for crying at all. Since early childhood, I was the type of person who cried whenever I felt worried or insecure, and this woman, in just a few sentences, had made me so worried and so insecure that I didn’t want to cry anymore.

For me, Challenge Day in sixth grade was exciting. Because my school had only opened that year, even the seventh- and eighth-graders who transferred from the middle school across town were open to making new friends, and it was a wholly positive experience. But after Challenge Day in eighth grade, I wondered if I’d become too comfortable being openly emotional two years before. And, not to place the entirety of the blame on this one woman’s speech, since I clearly had many reasons to feel down, eighth grade was when I first recognized that I might be depressed. Even still, I don’t think I should have had to say, “Look, lady, I appreciate your fake concern, but I’m clinically depressed” to avoid any further insult.

I know so many people whose feelings were invalidated as kids simply because, as kids, many of them just hadn’t been alive long enough to experience the type of pain that adults have. (And even if they have, the emotional differences inherent in both parties for the exact same tragedy or other life change can be profound.) When adults don’t understand that comparing the plights of a single 13-year-old to their own — or anyone’s — is completely unfair, their words and actions can quickly devolve into invalidation and, sometimes, abuse.

During that second Challenge Day, the main message conveyed by the leaders was beyond my attention. I thought I’d come away with the advice to not cry unless it was about something really important, and to “be stronger” — which was completely abstract to me at the time. (It still is, honestly. Is there a checklist I have to fill out to determine if I’m “strong” enough to…what? Be a living, appropriately emotional person? I mean, evidently not.)

I don’t want adults to be rude to kids who are expressing emotions of any kind, even if it’s about something they don’t think is worth expending energy to worry about. Children and teenagers have vastly different capacities to internalize the world around them compared to adults, and that doesn’t make their reactions to hardships wrong or invalid. We should all know this, having been kids ourselves, but obviously we don’t.

When adults can’t understand a world in which a hamster’s death is, for one day, the most important thing, perhaps the sole hardship on a child’s mind, then we don’t deserve their innocent happiness at learning on their own that there are, in fact, more hamsters.

If we can’t handle children’s emotions at their worst — the worst “worst” they’ve ever experienced — to what fate are we dooming them when the things they don’t talk about, their depression and abuse and appropriately hard hardships that are allowed to challenge their strength, get bad enough for us to care?

Takeaway: Let kids feel their feelings when they’re kids so they have a healthy relationship with their emotions as adults. (Please.)

[hogwartsambientfeverdream]

Afternoon Forest Breeze

The week was finally ending… Everyone was starting to relax and calm down from the weekly tension. And that was exactly what Lily and Adrianne were doing.. Their favourite way to unwind would be to take a walk in the forest and then lay down under the trees to loosen up. The smell of the trees, the sounds of the birds, the light picking throught the orange leaves… The whole ambience was perfect for a Friday afternoon after class…

Lily would usually accompany these moments with a book and Adrianne with some of her muggle herbs and weeds… Adrianne’s ways always fascinated Lily, who shared her grandefather’s Arthur interest for the muggle world. They started hanging out around the second year. She was always a very bizarre girl, in the best way possible.. Always wearing colourful clothes made by her lovely mom and aunt, whose shop Lily had visited multple times since befriending her. She reminded her a lot of Luna, but in a more interesting way… She was pretty much one of the strange muggle kids in her year, which made her a perfect match for Luna who made friends quite difficult and a lot of people considered her rather remote for a Potter.

“Soo, tomorrow it’s Saturday..”, Adrianne said all knowingly… 

“Yeah, so…?”, Lily answered very knowing very well the conversation which was about to begin.

“So..? So, what are you going to do? I mean, we’ve been discussing about it very little this whole week.. That is really not the Lily I know of… You know, the one who doesn’t stop talking when it comes to Scorpius..”

“Haha, yeah i know.. But honestly i really don’t know what even to discuss… I mean, even to myself… I don’t even know if i’m even going… Who am i kidding, i’m clearly going.. But what will I do? I can’t talk to him… Not in front of Albus and Rose anyway…”

“Why not? I’m not saying making your move literally in front of them, but you know… Maybe you could accidentaly be just the two of you…”, Adrianne said while smirking.

“I’m not so sure about it… I don’t know… I mean, even if i could, I don’t think he is attracted to me the way I am to him.. I think he mostly sees me as his little sister…” Lily said…

“It doesn’t seem like it though… Judging by his attitude lately, i’d say Mr.Malfoy feels the same way as you, but like you he doesn’t know how to process fancying the little sister of his longtime best friend…”

Adrianne magically was always able to understand those situations far better than Lily… “It seems quiet logical what she says”, Lily thought…

“Oh, and speaking of the devil..”, Adrianne said while looking up her shoulder..

“Hello Ladies!!!”, a young man’ voice poped out before she could even finish her sentence. 

Adrianne looked immediately towards Lily in a very meaningful way and her heart started racing… Two slim figures started uproaching them while giggling… Their faces could not be recognised from that far but they could both figure out who they were solely with every sound of footsteps sloppily going down the hill while stamping on the leaves in the ground.

“We knew you two loners would be here! I’m beginning to think that you girls are snobs… You never talk to anyone and you always disappear after class”, Albus said with his usual smirk and funny cocky voice. “I mean, unless if something else is going on between you two…!”

“Merlin’s beard Albus! You are such an idiot!”, Lily said clearly annoyed… “And that’s what you get for saying to your older brother your secrets…”, she thought while clearly thinking how embarassed poor Adrianne would be right now… That’s it then.. No more secrets for Albus… He is her brother and she clearly loves him but sometimes he can be such an arse… Fortunately Adrianne didn’t seem bothered by him.. Afterall, she became used to his humour quite quickly… 

“Sooo, are we allowed in your little gathering?” Albus asked while he and Scorpius looked down towards Lily and Adrianne.    

“Sure you can”, Adrianne answered smiling. She knew exactly what Albus meant by what he said and she knew that Lily had told him but she wasn’t really bother by it… It was a long time ago and honestly she thought it was as funny as it is stupid…

“Well thank you my love! Oh, what is it that you have over there? I think I might need some of this muggle magic of yours to unwind”, Albus said smiling sweet towards Adrianne while she passed him the cigarette. He really enjoyes her company and he is glad that Lily hangs out with her.. She is clearly more outgoing than her and this has helped little shy Lily a lot.  They would always joke around and flirt for fun but Albus would always look at Adrianne as his friend.

They both took of their cloaks and their green Slytherin ties and laid down on the grass. Albus smoked a little of Adrianne’s weed and then took a deep breath of content. He could finally relax.. This whole week was mad with all the studying and practicing for Quidditch. He is a perfectionist and a very ambitious young man afterall. It was still early for practice, he was very well aware, but with him finally becoming Captain, he had to make sure if everyone was still as good as he remembered from last year. He was determined to form the best Slytherin House Team for the Quidditch Cup, since it was his last year and definately wanted to make an impact. And if that meant trying out new members for already taken spots, he would do it! And this is why he has exausted Scorpius out in the practice sessions.. He does not want to kick his best friend off the team. He is talented, clearly, and he wants him with him. They have been best friends since day one, and he wants to win this year’s cup as a Captain alongside his best friend! Their last Hogwarts Quidditch House Cup.

Quidditch is very important for him and he is actually thinking about pursuing it professionally after school for some years now. Besides, that was the deal with his parents. School first and making sure all the possibilities are made known to him and then finalizing his decision. Having his mom a former professional player meant a great deal of support, but his dad wanted for him to be absolutely sure, with whom Albus agreed. James had the same fantasy when 14 years old and he ended up pursuing traveling for research purposes.. So, that is a good plan, although he knows that his decision is made. And fortunately he knows that both Harry and Ginny support him. 

“So, Lily, how is herbology going? Did you make any progress?”, Scorpius turned to Lily and asked with his usual sweet smile.

“Um, yeah… a little… It’s really hard this year and we have just started… I really don’t know how James excelled in it…”, Lily answered while she started to feel like blushing.

“I didn’n know you struggle with it”, Albus said clearly looking at both of them suspiciously. “James is not the only Potter good in Herbology you know, i can help you out”

“Well shite..” Lily though to herself.. Why are her brothers so smart? They can always understand her right through! 

“Well you know, we just bumped into eachother the other day and I told him all about it.. You know.. Nothing special…” Lily answered while feeling like her breath was leaving her body slowly.

“Yeah, you know, casual chat..” Scorpius also said awkwardly.

“Hahaha you both need to calm down! I was just joking.. Merlin’s beard…”, Albus said smirking to dissolve the tension.. Yeap, he was finally sure.. They fancy eachother! He knew it from the moment he caught Scorpius looking at Lily with admiration in the summer when she walked down the stairs wearing a new fairytale like purple tulle dress.. He only had to make sure, and this litle tiny experiment just told him everything!

“Soo,..” Albus continues satisfied with his discovery, “Adrianne, are you joining us tomorrow night? The moon will look spectacular from the forest by the lake”

“Hahaha, uum nop! I am really not risking my Hogsmead Halloween trip for this! I’d love to, you know i would, but honestly I am not a Potter to pull your tricks my love”, Adrianne answered.

“What Potter tricks?”, Albus said almost like he didn’t understand

“You know, the whole dissappearing without anyone noticing it.. You both do it my Slytherin friends and so did James! And don’t get me started on showing up on Hogsmead when actually not being allowed to go due to your usual mischieves! James was notorius for it! There was no real detention for him! You know, James is not here anymore to take us with him and magically help us skip detention..  Soo, that’s a big no no from me.. I’ll be in my room preparing my clothes for Halloween…”

“Well, you know.. You have a point.. I know.. James is not here to get us out of Hogwarts while in detention, BUT this is!”, Albus said with an all meaningfull look while pulling out of his bag an old folded piece of paper… 

“Shite, Albus are we really doing this? More people knowing, more dangerous it will be for people to find out!” Scorpius said surprised by his friend for doing this!

“What is that?” both Lily and Adrianne said at the same time completely confused..

“I mean, I knew about the cloak, and by the way it’s completely unfair that I don’t get a turn on it until you graduate, but this? What is this?”, Lily said..

“This my friends, is the reason of our Success! It’s a map that shows all of the castle and everyone’s whereabouts at any given moment.. And, it also shows secret passages to Hogsmead from Hogwarts! We can even go now if you want” Albus said with his usual lovingly proud maner.

“What? Who made this? And where did you find it?”, Lily continued being utterly surprised.

“Our grandfather made it with his friends while they were students here.. You know, Sirius and  Remus, Teddy’s dad” Albus answered..

“Yeah yeah… I get it… merlin’s beard! That’s how James did it! And he never told us anything! I’ll kill him! But where did he get it?”

“In dad’s office… I don’t know where exactely… I guess dad has obviously found out by now but what is he going to say? He did the same in our age!”

“I cannot believe this! Albus that’s amazing!”, Adrianne said completely astonished! She knew that the Wizarding World will never cease to amaze her, but everytime she finds out something new it feels like the first time all over again.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to go for a walk in the village?”, Scorpius said all smiling meaningfully… 

[x0401x]

If you didn't read the last chapter of Tsurune don't read the ask: OMG! I almost get killed in this "Masa-san lightly pinched Minato’s cheeks and pulled them" and in the car scene.I laughed so hard on minato he's really didn't think about hiding his feeling lol. what do you think about the chapter?

Took me almost two full days to reply to this, and if that doesn’t speak volumes about how wild this chapter was, then I don’t know what would.

I’d read spoilers of volume 2 right after it came out so I already knew what was gonna go down, and being very honest, the cheek pinching was something I’d actually expected to see at some point after reading the summaries of volume 1. And rather than wishing for it, I was waiting for it because it seemed so obvious to me that this was gonna happen one way or another. I mean, it’s just so much like Masaki to do something of that sort, lmao. But I admit I expected it to happen in a daily-situation scene and not… like this. As always, Ayano surpassed my expectations on the unapologetically huge amounts of gay.

I’ve mentioned this topic in my post about the differences between the novel and the anime. Minato may keep a lot of secrets from everyone, yet Masaki has been the sole exception to this ever since they met. I mean, look at volume 1. It’s basically Minato hiding nearly every important thing from literally everybody except his conveniently-there-by-narrative-default master. Volume 2′s chapter 3 is basically a massive meme based off this plot device, like:Shuu: *touches Masaki*Minato: Sir, that’s my emotional support coach.Anyway, my point is that Minato doesn’t hide anything from Masaki, ever. Not even the most embarrassing shit.

The chapter was very interesting. It was rather entretaining to see how inept Eisuke actually is regarding himself. The novel often references Amanojaku, so I was wondering if we’d ever get an Amanojaku-ish character, and sure enough, here he is.

Other than that, good God. Minato is such a fucking embarrassment. I adore this walking fivehead so much. Had to put the extent of my love for him and this chapter under a cut because it’s probably the lenghtiest ask response I’ve ever written.

I think I can’t even pinpoint what the best thing about this chapter was. Like, the details are very subtly placed in all the right spots as always, and this is probably what leaves the bigger impressions on me. And by “details” I mean the subtext and symbolisms.

For starters, Ayano knows very well how to fuck with plant language nerds. She’s used a lot of it with Masaki and Minato, and it feels like the bar just keeps going up. First it was oaks (strength and knowledge), then bamboo (inspiration), then azaleas (developing passion), and now it’s freaking bellflowers. What’s more: the ones that Minato stopped by were spotted bellflowers. They’re known for their heart-shaped foliage. In flower language, bellflowers stand for gratitude and unwavering love. And sure enough, Minato doesn’t waver at all before going into that bakery and buying a batch of cinnamon buns (did it really have to be that of all things, omg) for Masaki, specifically.

I can’t stress how wholly, completely, utterly unnecessary that was. There’s no heterosexual explanation to it. I mean, there’s no heterosexual explanation to a lot of things about these two, but the romantic connotation was really heavy on this one. You have to use a fucking magnifier to find the platonic in this bullshit, and it’s still hella hard to ignore the implications. It’s even harder when Minato is berating himself for buying the buns on impulse when he heard that they go well with coffee and thinking about how irritated he feels when Shuu is around Masaki. He doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not jealous. Be more like any other oblivious sports anime protagonist and let me die in peace, for fuck’s sake.

I’m just trying to pretend that I don’t know cinnamon is associated with romantic love and often used to inflame passion, because that’s too fucking much.

On other news, I’m highly pleased that we get SeiKai hints even when Seiya and Kaito don’t show up together. Kaito mentioning Seiya’s name every two or three sentences and approaching Minato simply because he saw Kuma and thought that maybe Seiya was there was gold, tbh. It was a good break before the mattress fire that happens right after.

The way Minato found out that Masaki meant well and didn’t want him to become like he was in the past was just so priceless. Take this shit straight to the face, son. Get fucking wrecked by how much he cares about you.

It’s also really freaking hilarious to me how everything that concerns Minato’s relationship with Masaki involves shoujo manga tropes. Envious of your rightful rival being too long around your master? Check. Learning the hard way that it was all for your sake? Check. Getting frustrated and shouting like a bitch at the irony of it? Check.

Minato is Minato, though, so of course he acknowledges that he wants Masaki by his side in spite of this. Did he have to do that while lying in bed, though? I think the fuck not.

And cue Masaki texting him immediately while he’s doing that, because Masaki always shows up when he wants to see him, and because this has turned into a romantic comedy, apparently? Love me that age-old cliché where the main character goes to the window after getting a message and finds the person who’d been occupying their thoughts standing there by sheer unadulterated coincidence, and they fucking heard you, you little shit.

This comes in a set with the “first visit and you’re already inviting him to his room” trope because why not follow all the way down with the romcom narration structure since we’re already at it? Double entendrees every three phrases or so because go big or go home.

“Dad isn’t home yet, so should we go upstairs?”

Yeah, lmao, that’s what about every shoujo heroine says before getting lectured on how they “shouldn’t make that sort of invitation to a guy”.

“It feels great. Thank you, Masa-san.”

It doesn’t feel so great not being able to overlook this, Ayano.

“Well, I may not look it, but I am your master after all.”

SHUT THE FUCK UP, JESUS CHRIST.

Seriously, this shit only loses to Fifty Shades of Takehaya and his more than unasked-for lines about “punishing” and “thoroughly training” Kaito. Sure, none of this is on the level of dirty jokes, but the subtleties are still too many.

The fluff is what gets you good, though. Because that was fluff right there. No, it doesn’t classify as hurt/comfort. These bastards fluffy. I just wanna know who managed to stay upright after reading about Minato feeling his heart ache because it had been too long since the last time he’d seen Masaki smile at him, ‘cause I sure as fuck didn’t.

No time is wasted before they off their asses to the place where they first met, which is basically a world of their own at nighttime (it’s named Yata Shrine for a reason; fuck that reason). And of course there had to be your usual load of elusive language in the middle, where the destination is pitch-dark but the road there is all wildlife and stars and this sparkly wave of light at the end of the tunnel. Welcome to the land of bitch, this isn’t a shoujo, stop acting like one.

Or don’t. We’re indulging. Screaming internally the entire time, but still indulging.

The dialogue is so obviously crafted to seem like something else that it’s useless to pretend it wasn’t inentional. I already knew what was coming but reading about the whole thing was an experience.

“I’m happy that you became my coach at Kazemai but I’m also not, because I don’t get to keep you for myself.”

Did he have to say it like that? Abso-fucking-lutely not. But he did anyway, because since when does Narumiya Minato give a flying fuck about ambiguity versus precision?

Six kinds of gay here. And all of them confirm that Minato’s “mixed feelings” when seeing Kaito being so familiar with Masaki from the get-go were, in fact, pure jealousy. It’s not even envy, because that’s wanting something someone has and you don’t. Minato was even closer to Masaki than Kaito was at that point, so it was all just his Masaki-exclusive greed speaking, plain and simple.

This is what gets me about this scene, tbh. It’s so much like Minato to say that, but it’s so alien to read it in a shounen novel. I don’t recall seeing anything so direct and raw in any sports franchise aside from Yuri on Ice. The most we get is “I wanna do [insert sport here] with you”. But this case is a blatant “we’d be doing the thing we like together one way or another and I’d have preferred if no one else were involved”.

And this comes right before we get a reminder that Minato doesn’t like it when Masaki treats him as a child, again. That’s… something. I hate this something a lot.

Also, it feels like the two of them are having completely different conversations with each other. Masaki is talking about his struggle coaching Minato and pointing out the crap he has to deal with in having a student whose last words are probably gonna be something stupid like “oops” or “oh, shit”, and Minato is countering with apparently completely unrelated arguments.

“But didn’t you let Shuu touch your belly, Masa-san?”

The fuck does that have to do with anything? How is that of any relevance to the conversation? What is this gay nonsense?

“If anyone else heard only that, I’d sound like a pervert, wouldn’t I? Did you want to touch it too, Minato?”

JUST DISMISS IT, YOU MOTHERFUCKER. DON’T ENCOURAGE HIS FOLLY. LET IT DIE.

“I’m no pervert, so I’m good.”

And now the moment of crushing honesty is over. Time for lies and derision because we all saw earlier in this chapter that (I can’t believe I’m actually writing this) Minato did, in fact, want to touch Masaki. Boy just called himself a pervert, indirectly. Gotta congratulate him for playing himself for, like, the hundredth time, I guess.

Of course Masaki would get emo in this scene sooner or later, because the fact that he’s dealing with the most reckless character out of the cast is apparently not a pertinent reason for things to have ended up the way they did. And of course Minato was gonna do something about it. It’s almost obligatory by now that they lift each other up.

WHY LIKE THIS, THOUGH?

Like, there’s just too much here that doesn’t translate into a master-student thing. Okay, I can totally see that in the dialogue but the actions are screaming something else entirely. Obviously, as I always say, I’m not gonna label it as romantic. What I’m talking about is: this isn’t the behavior of someone interacting with a teacher, but of a person with another. I mean, no matter how you look at it, there would have been a lot to consider here regarding the minimum of restraint that one should have around their mentor or at least around their elders, but Minato is basically saying “fuck you” to all of this.

Yeah, sure, go reach out to grab his hand and gently brush his bangs off his eyes simply because you can’t help the urge to look into them. No big deal. It’s just the affection of a disciple. Anyone else would have done the exact same.

I JUST WANNA TALK, AYANO. I JUST WANNA TALK.

Not trying to stereotype or devalue the worth of teacher-student relationships. Just back to my previous point: you don’t do this shit to a teacher, realistically speaking. And even if anyone hypothetically had any gall to do that, neither the teacher nor any onlooker would disconsider it an advance. Anybody would find it a little bit out of place at the very, very least.

Also, that declaration? Literally Minato swearing he would have Masaki be the one teaching him for the rest of his life? This after having said similar bullshit like claiming that he would never let Masaki go or that he’d follow Masaki to the grave. The bar just keeps going up. So, in short, “you don’t have to be my master but I’ll be damned if you’re not my master forever”.

Ayano, you’re murdering us. You’re murdering your readers.

“I feel more relaxed when I talk to you, Masa-san.”

No news here but thank you for saying it anyway. There had to be icing on this cake. And the cherry on top was Masaki’s explanation about the word “talking”. Are you telling us that these idiots hand their hearts over to each other every time they open up like this, Ayano? IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE FUCKING SAYING, AYANO?

Love me all of Minato’s non-existent heterosexuality being killed with fire.

I imagine that Minato must have made the cutest face when seeing Fuu again. Fuu, the owl with a heart-shaped face, showing up at the most convenient time. Because heart-shaped leaves weren’t enough, apparently.

The end of this chapter made me feel a tiny bit bad for Shuu, though, because it was one more instance of something that he and Minato and no one else had in common that got overwritten and outshone. It’s definitely a parallel to when they were little kids learning under Saionji and hiding it from everyone until a certain point, yelling at the top of their lungs and being competitive while taking things seriously to an extent. Here, we have Minato and Masaki in perfect sync, reproducing the exact same thing that Shuu and Minato had learned so many years ago but with experient successfulness and also complete harmony. And this time, it’s 100% their secret only, taking place at night without the knowledge of anybody, with no audience, no parents and no teacher.

It’s… too much, lmao. In every sense. Shuu literally stands no fucking chance next to Masaki and I love it. *broadcast lady voice* Fujiwara Shuu. Repeating; Fujiwara Shuu. Your wife Senichi is waiting for you at Kirisaki High.

And of course, the chapter had to be closed with a finishing blow. God fucking dammit. Minato packing coffee to share with Masaki would have been enough, but nay, Masaki also had to bring the fucking oyaki. From the fact that they’ve had oyaki together before at the shrine and that these oyaki are from the bakery where Minato had bought the cinnamon rolls without a second thought, it’s sort of really obvious that Masaki bought them to eat together with him.

I didn’t ask for any of this and now I need to lie the fuck down.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Persona 5 Problems: Are the P5MC’s parents good/bad/abusive/grey?

Hoooo boy I dunno if this is happening anywhere besides the confessions blog (btw leave the mods alone, they are good people that have to deal with all of our salty butts) but...... I guess we need to talk about it. I should note this isn’t my own personal “Persona Problem” it’s more of a “Persona Fandom Problem” (which I haven’t done one yet, or at least published....still working on the FeMC one 8U but that’s off topic). 

So if you don’t know things have been getting heated in relation to if P5MC’s parents are good or bad/abusive or grey, and so on. Everyone raises good points tbh! Some.....not so good (on all sides) I should note I’m completely neutral tbh (I prefer a more grey backstory, but I can swing any which way with this interpretation tbh!), as long as the interpretation is well written (by which it addresses some of the grey ares the game left), be it positive or negative, I think it’s fine. So this isn’t someone who is....like....super biased to one side (not that anyone can be unbiased but concerning this topic I’m as close as I’ll ever be to it). 

Anyway what is the answer to this question? Well I have your answer guys! It’s open and to be left up to the interpretation to the player! :D DON’T GO-! ;w; I’ll explain myself under the cut, I figured you’d at least like to know my answer going in. Even if you don’t want to believe it, it’s very much the fact that it’s left up to interpretation due to the sole fact there’s not enough info to go on (even if we nitpick the living shit out of it we don’t know the parents’ motives). Anyway, I found there’s some key info people missed out on (blame Atlus for keeping that tidbit a bonus missable quiz show thing) and also looking into the real life JAPANESE juvenile law (just....cause I’m afraid people are trying to use their own country’s law and try to apply it to Japan, and this required some research, tho I feel like I still have more to learn this is what I could find 8U)

Last thing I should note, a lot of this might come off as “defense for good/neutral” parents, but there’s something you need to remember. WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THEM. Not their personal reasons or mindset as to why the MC was allowed to move to Tokyo. We don’t even know if they do or don’t call him because they are unimportant to the story. Everything is left up to the player’s interpretation, and regardless of what route you wanna take, it will require SOME explanation. Good/neutral parents, you’ll need to explain why they are absent or why they chose what the did during the course of the game, but you don’t really need to explain the MC’s choice to go back to them (cause in his mind they are good). Bad/abusive parents, you won’t need to explain their lack of presence during the game (cause it’s really easy ‘they’re just bad’ see? not a whole lotta thought needed), but you’ll run into some issues as to why the MC returning home is a good ending (so you’ll need to explain that). Grey parents, you have no choice but to explain things for legit everything they do/don’t do in the game. Regardless of what you subscribe to, you’ll need to explain something that isn’t explained in the game....and guess what? Regardless of your explanation....it’s not canon. Because the game itself doesn’t explain it. You can headcanon as much as you want, it’s encouraged, all of them are valid, but unless Atlus remakes the game where they give the parents actual personality/character, nothing will be canon. And that’s ok. You can explore a lot of different things thanks to this, it’s frustrating but you have to take the good with the bad. Now, why am I explaining stuff that is inconsiquential considering nothing is canon (and everything is permitted, ...no AC fans?...ok ;w;) regarding this? Well call me a devil’s advocate, but it also shows how someone can come up with a valid reason rather than ‘just cause.’ Ex: MC’s parents don’t give him any money, what’s their financial standing? Side A: They are well off and are just assholes who don’t want to help him. Side B: They aren’t well off, I have no reason just....because. Not the best comeback right? Well what if we changed Side B’s answer to: They aren’t well off, because he’s going to a private school in the city and that might be siphoning more of their money than they originally were doing before and thus might be struggling. Gives more weight to Side B no? Both interpretations are valid, because we don’t know the MC’s parent’s financial situations of course (please remember we know nothing as I bring up things people may have missed/overlooked/didn’t know), but Side B now doesn’t sound like it’s just saying stuff ‘just cause.’ 

Anyway, all that preface out of the way, actual analysis under the cut: 

So.....let’s start off with analyzing what we do know about the game! P5MC’s court case went by faster than an episode of Law and Order (very unusual, I think even mentioned by the game, so some of the “hmm but couldn’t they have done had the MC be in a different school in his hometown under probation” is just game going to game so we won’t worry about that too much, his sentence was to Tokyo so that’s what we are going with! tho tbh the game does kinda handwave a little explanation as to why he’s in Tokyo, Principal literally says they are the only one who would take him....and well rather that’s realistic or not game gonna game so yeah moving on 8U) 

We know the MC’s parents sent him to Sojiro. We know Sojiro is a probation officer (something I noticed people seem to forget in the confessions). MC was sentenced to live in Tokyo via the courts orders, the parent’s agreed, and the parents made arrangements to stay with Sojiro due to a connection with a shared friend of their’s (also probably cause he’s also a gd probation officer but that’s not stated as a reason, just want to make sure you are aware Sojiro is a probation officer). MC is accepted to the only school (in Tokyo, or maybe the country not specified) that will take him, and will presumably be able to integrated in the school due to no one knowing about his criminal record (aka he gets a clean slate). During this time Sojiro state’s to briefing the player on the MC’s situation "*laughs (I think only in the JP ver)* In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass" (there’s a few things about this line I can mean a lot of things and I’ll get into it later). He says if MC causes any trouble he’ll throw him out......And then later saying if he problems he’ll be sent to juvie (wait....so doesn’t that mean he’ll just send him to Juvie? Not on the street? Sojiro you make no sense....just gonna bring it up here, ‘throw you out’ seems more in line with Sojiro being ‘tough love’ than actually threatening while the juvie is a legit warning to the MC, only way I can reconcile why he’s saying that, esp since he’s a lot more serious voice acting wise when talking about juvie and the two times he uses ‘throw out’ in the first two days he’s a lot lighter/flabbergasted/not as serious sounding, just a thing to note). The next day the principal states that if he’s kicked out, he’d have nowhere to go. Sojiro also states the reason he took the MC in was for money (as well as being asked and accepting, but keep in mind with the money, he kind of slides that in at a last second, this is key). 

So yeah it seems that the parents might have had to dump him there and might not be happy with him......Key words: “might” and “it seems.”

Here’s a few things the game.....doesn’t make clear, Sojiro’s attitude during this time as well as some key info you’d miss unless you’d look into it.

Let’s start with Sojiro’s attitude, he’s def taking the “tough love” approach to the MC (I think a lot of people can agree he’s being a hardass cause that’s what he thinks the MC needs right now...dunno why but yeah), and he’s also lying to the MC on at least one thing. Wait what? Lying? About what? The money. Surprised? I know this info isn’t mandatory in the story, it’s easily missable! Anyway, it’s very likely Sojiro isn’t getting paid (and this can both hurt and support the parents so don’t think this is an execution for the parents), and so he just lied to the MC. If you don’t believe me, here’s the game stating that probation officers (and with Mona’s commentary, including Sojiro) don’t get paid.  So....why lie? Well again he’s taking the tough love approach, and he’s def faltering on the 2nd day, and the way he stumbles to answer the MC and adding the money at the end might show him trying to keep up with the tough love act by showing he’s only in it for the money even if he isn’t (and thus lying). He could also be lying about the pain in the ass thing too, either cause he’s already lying about one thing so what’s stopping him from lying about another thing, or the fact that that in the original Japanese, he laughs when he says the MC was kicked out for being a pain in the ass (as well as his portrait changing to the smiling one)....meaning he’s either lying or just joking (not the best time to make a joke like that Sojiro 8U). All that being said, his words do not imply the parents said that, it could be all Sojiro. So saying “he got it from the parents” isn’t supported, not saying it’s false or you can headcanon it, but the text does not support the parents said that to Sojiro. So you can’t outright claim that as fact. I’m not saying the parents didn’t say it, but there’s nothing proving that they did nor didn’t.

“Ok but why dump the MC with Sojiro? He’s just some rando right? A STRANGER! THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW HIM HE COULD BE A SERIAL KILLER-!” Ok let’s take a breath guys, yes Sojiro is only a friend of a friend but.....keep in mind....he’s a probation officer (hogoshi/保護司 specifically, ref original dialogue in this jp walkthrough/guide here) He’s not just “some rando” it’s his (volunteer) job (nonetheless it’s still a job) to look after kids like the MC. And not just any old job, the dude has to go through training for 2 years on top of having to take a test that’s looked over by the Japanese Supreme court it’s not something just ANYONE can be (source, pg 8, but also the wikipedia pages have shown this as well) Like 1) he’s qualified to take care of him, 2) MC needs an officer (or at least he’s getting one whether he wants one or not) tbh it’s kind of the thing I’ve found by via reading, 3) it really helps that he’s a friend of a friend that can vouch for him AND he’s an officer. There’s really nothing wrong sending the MC to Sojiro if he’s destined to go to Tokyo, Sojiro is literally better than sending him to a legit “some rando.” (I should note, while I can’t find the exact website that stated it, this one does also mention that there aren’t really enough probation officers atm, I dunno just something I came across so like that fact could’ve also played a role in the MC moving in with Sojiro due to not having a closer officer nearby but I dunno) (edit: also remember when I brought up the tough love thing in regards to throwing the MC out up top? I stated that because throwing him out would be.....well.....against his job, and unless he’s throwing him out to sending him to juvie, it would be....kind of unethical on his part to throw the MC out on the street and counterintuitive to rehabilitation that Japan really emphasizes).

But why send him to Tokyo? Well remember the court ruled it, I guess the ruling said “go to Tokyo” (probably cause there was a school and a probation officer that would make that possible). Sure his parents agreed, but can you really say no to a ruling? I guess you can, but let’s look at what they were probably facing. The courts probably ruled that they send him to Tokyo or to Juvie. Tokyo is def the better option (at least he’s not in basically jail, and Japanese juvie isn’t something to laugh at) so I can see why they’d say yes (Tokyo means he gets schooling and a clean slate and not in jail, and juvie means he’s in kid jail and....hooo boy not good and can screw him for a number of reasons). Or they could’ve appealed to the court instead.....except that Japan isn’t really.....all that great when it comes to appealing stuff, there’s also the fact the only school “nearby” that would/could take him was Syujin. As again, stated by the Principal that he’d have nowhere to go if kicked out of Syujin:

And considering how long the appeal process would be (like years), on top of the fact it would probably be fruitless due to how Japan is with this type of stuff (guilty until proven innocent), MC would miss out on an education. Which would be VERY BAD. So the parents probably were like, “Ok, clean slate in Tokyo, still gets to go to school and get an education, guardian seems good, and it’s only for one year.” It should be noted this was all done in a short amount of time (even mentioned in that very scene with the principal if you wanna cross reference). Regardless if they like their son or not at this point, this reasoning makes sense. They made lemons out of lemonade.

“Ok but why didn’t they contact him?” What makes you say that? It could happen off screen. “But that’s just such a bs explanation.” Yeah but they aren’t exactly super important to the story, no one really complained about the P4 MC’s parents doing that (I mean he has similar hc about neglectful parents, but not everyone subscribes to that), so does it matter? But....consider this, what if they COULDN’T call/contact him? By which I mean they legally couldn’t. This thought crossed my mind when reading about probation officers in the beginning pages of this pdf file. While it seems the probation officers will be in contact during an investigation period for a trial, we know the MC’s trial was very unique so they might’ve skipped/fast forward through it. But one of the things they do is investigate the home life situation. So consider this, what if the parents....were deemed the reason the MC got into that situation. I’m not saying they are violent, but maybe the MC got his mentality from his parents (aka, save the weak, or maybe a parent was an activist or an ex-delinquent but was a great parent) and the courts deemed that could’ve been why he got into trouble. Because from my research, Japan is about rehabilitating the youth/criminals. They want to find the source, and change it. If the courts decided he needed to get far from home and have limited contact with his family, that could be why. Not saying it is what happened, not saying it isn’t what happened. Not saying they didn’t call him, not saying they did call him. Again, this is grey area and open for interpretation. This is something that COULD happen irl, but I’m not saying it did happen in P5 (it could, you can headcanon it, there’s open room for it, but it’s a headcanon, not actual canon, and there’s not really anything that could....well.....oppose it but there’s nothing that outright supports it..... Again this thing is all grey and open 8U)

There is something else that had me wondering about something not explained in the game. It’s about the type of school the MC was going to.....and how much it costs. Because, in Japan you need to pay tuition to go to school! This is something I know from just....consuming media, it comes up, and after researching that’s kind of the norm. Why bring this up? Well...it’s because I want to explore the possibility of the MC’s financial situation (which, money is a whole freaking mess in P5, but one thing at a time). Anyway first we need to know what school the MC is going to. The Megaten Wiki (always take with a grain of salt keep in mind) states that it’s an “elite prep school.” Ok, well does that mean it’s a private school? Yes actually! It’s not going to outright say it in the speech bubble but the game does have a banner saying it:

Hidden but I found it gosh darn it! >:D As you can see, I was also researching what the tuition differences between public and private are....and well...it’s pretty big. There’s a few articles (here’s just one, mentions how lower income people can still attend, aka Ryuji and his Single mom....btw single moms are probably one of the poorest groups in Japan, also here’s another source) but it can double to quadruple depending on where you go. So if you want to go the “why aren’t they giving the MC more money” this might be why, because they are paying for the MC’s education. And/or maybe they are just paying Sojiro directly (we dunno if he’s telling the truth about that or not). Or MAYBE the parents aren’t exactly well off and are just trying their best. (of course maybe they just don’t give a shit and are footing the whole bill onto Sojiro, again we don’t know, there’s not enough info given about them or the financial situation, so....it shouldn’t be debated 8U).

“Ok but why aren’t they feeding the MC/taking care of him?” Why them? Right now it’s not their job, it’s Sojiro’s. It annoys me that no one blames Sojiro even tho THAT’S HIS JOB right now. “Sending only a small box of his stuff?” Can explain it as basic necessities, Japan tends to have small living spaces regardless so it could be just what the MC needs. “But can you argue that?” Yeah you can, but you can also argue that it’s not enough....but it’ll get us nowhere because there’s not enough info (which is pretty much this whole issue but yet here we are). (btw this is connected to another issue with how Persona, but specifically P5, handle money in the main story....which is poorly, esp since they are thieves and are earning money just.....sigh....that’s a separate issue but throwing that out there). Basically, anything aimed at the MC’s shitty living situation or poor health while in Tokyo can easily be pointed at Sojiro, because he is neglecting his duties to take care of the MC while he is in his ward. It’s not 100% the parents fault for not knowing Sojiro isn’t as great as they thought (it’s like thinking blaming them for sending MC to Kamo’s school, they didn’t know Kamo was a shit bag, maybe they didn’t even know who Kamo was or that he’s at the MC’s school, you can’t blame people who go info that this person is great and then they turn out that they aren’t behind closed doors). THAT BEING SAID, I’m not saying Sojiro is a shitbag or bad (if he is doing a bad job, it’s not the parents’ fault for like....believing the guy will do his job, it’s like expecting someone not to trust a doctor to do his job, but yeah I just want to specify when I said above “not their fault for not know Sojiro is doing a bad job” is for argument’s sake I don’t think Sojiro is), but if we ARE going to complain about the MC’s living situation....well....he’s the one to point fingers at. And are we going to complain that Sojiro doesn’t feed him? Actually I see that’s probably the next natural step as the next discourse, “He feeds the MC breakfast so we can assume he feeds him every day!” “Well Mona states the MC doesn’t eat well enough, so maybe Sojiro isn’t really doing that!” I personally think Sojiro feeds him, the game is just dumb with out it handles money and that’s a different argument for later, also please don’t make this the next discourse. 8U

So what have we learned from this? That the situation isn’t completely black and white, and that there’s not enough info from the parents to go on to be able to characterize them.

Basically you can have abusive/neglectful parents who are making Sojiro pay for everything and basically wanted to get rid of their kid ASAP. And only take him back because it’s proven he was innocent (I mean.....the game is a little weird and he basically got out by turning himself in as the leader as the PT but sure whatever game). 

Or you can have parents who are trying their best in a shitty situation (choosing the best option for him, while possibly being forbidden to contact him via the court), paying for his school (which either hurts them cause they are poor, or just because there’s just because school is so expensive) and assuming Sojiro is doing his job taking care of their kid. 

Either’s fine, as long as the grey area is explained it’s fine.

“But what about the roadtrip?!” Oh for the love of. Ok 1) Sojiro might’ve informed his parents (depends on if he was lying about not knowing where Futaba/Mona were at the beginning), 2) It’s probably not a roadtrip but a detour which isn’t a shocking thing by any account (reasons being a) Futaba didn’t tell Sojiro where she was going so she’d need to return at some point that day or else HE’LL be worried and are you going to argue Sojiro doesn’t care about Futaba too?, b) no one seems to be packed for anything longer than a day away from home), 3) and/or they could’ve texted them that he was going to be home a little late. 

Like train is def faster than car in Japan, but like......stopping to look at the ocean (or just drive by, or just taking the MC the long way home to spend a little more time with him).  It’s not anything scary, he’s getting to his destination. “But Ryuji said he wasn’t taking him straight home!” doesn’t mean it’s a roadtrip. Like calm down y’all. 

Also one last note, cause I feel like some people might bring it up, the anime, mangas, drama cds (at least P5′s atm), and anthologies aren’t outright canon, by canon I mean “the game is the main canon, everything else is just an outside interpretation.” In case people want to bring up P5′s one anthology chapter (that Saito made btw) where P5MC hints that the adults in his life didn’t believe him, or the P4 manga which actually goes into Souji’s backstory. Yeah those aren’t canon to the games. So don’t go using it as facts to back up your argument. Just....a warning. 

So yeah, tldr; everything is grey, it’s up to you! Don’t go around claiming your headcanon as canon, but your headcanon is valid! Also do go around shitting on other’s for having a different headcanon (esp if they aren’t going around claiming it as canon). And btw not saying I’m fool proof, if you guys have researched JJL and find something new that I missed, or just another side of the argument I didn’t address you can point it out and I’ll add it below this point!