#maybe the worst thing I've ever drawn in my life

[ellzilla]

I felt possessed to draw this based on that one Jeremy Fragrance image

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 6: Seventeen bias wrecker - Dino✨️

Affect

AN: This has been in my drafts for 600 years because those clips of him from In The Soop still haunt me. I just think it's funny that because it took me so long to get to this, we got even more shirtless Dino in the gym content recently. Clearly a sign from the universe to finish this lmao. I was going to go on a whole unhinged rant about him but, I'll spare you all. We're all going to ignore that 1. his is the longest so far and 2. I've written the most for him out of every idol, thanks.

Synopsis: You thought working out with Chan would be a fun, productive way to spend time together. However, you're sorely unprepared for just how distracting he can be.

Heads up: Lee Chan x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers of sorts, Reader going through it because of her attraction to Chan, praise kink (f. receiving), Chan being a menace, technically public sex I guess (they fuck in the gym but, no one catches them and it's not brought up as a concern), hair pulling, dirty talk, petnames used for Reader, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little and creampie.

Word count: 4138

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You knew you were doomed the moment you saw Chan in his workout clothing. His shirt sticking to his torso and practically acting like a second skin. You're sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the outlines of his nipples. His shorts were worse, somehow. Beckoning you to look at his toned thighs and zero in on how they hugged his ass.

Today is going to be more challenging than you anticipated.

"So, where do you want to start?" He asks, snapping you out of so blatantly ogling one of your closest friends. God, what're you thinking? You're here to spend time with him. Not think about how broad his shoulders are and just how muscular his ass would feel if you gave it a squeeze or five.

"You're the gym expert. You tell me," You pray to whichever deity is listening that Chan mistakes the delicate quality in your voice for anything other than how much just seeing him dressed like this affects you.

His laugh is boisterous and fills you with so much warmth, turning the already present butterflies in your stomach into dragons. One person shouldn't have this much power over you.

"I better not hear any complaining then," he responds with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Yeah, maybe being alone with the man you're borderline in love with isn't the wisest decision you've ever made, but it's too late now. You resist the scowl that wants to make itself known on your face when you invision a knowing Soonyoung in your mind. He's the one who suggested this to begin with. You're definitely going to be having some words with him the next time you see him, that evil man. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You severely underestimated how much worse this could get. You thought just seeing him in his tight-fitting gym attire was enough to fog up your brain but, that was before you heard the noises.

Lee Chan is a vocal man in all areas of life. Well, all areas of life that you've experienced him in. He's always talking, laughing, yelling at points, singing, sometimes rapping to fill the silence, and a million other things. The point being, Chan is not a quiet man. So, it shouldn't take you by surprise that he's vocal while he's working out too.

Still, the quiet grunts that fall from his lips and fill the otherwise relatively silent gym when he lifts weights causes your heart to beat wildly in your chest. The drawn-out groans when he finishes a set or stretches out his muscles might be the worst. Coupled with the way he grits his jaw and his face contorts when he's lifting, it's frankly a miracle you haven't spontaneously combusted.

However, as you stand and watch him while he illustrates how he wants you to lift these weights to your absolute horror and mortification, you realise you're getting wet. Not only that, but a barely there ache is beginning to make itself known between your thighs.

You're sure your face is radiating enough heat to power a small apartment building. You're really getting this worked up just watching him work out? What in the world is wrong with you? Are you truly this needy? You definitely need to call Soonyoung after this and yell at him until you're hoarse.

"Do you want to try now?" Chan asks you, kind eyes focused on you. You really might be the world's worst friend.

"Yeah, sure," you respond, pulling yourself together as best as you can given that you're unravelling at the seams. The weights aren't too heavy. You test them in your hold momentarily before imitating Chan's movements. There's a slight burn in your biceps but, otherwise you feel fine. It feels good, even. The slight burn fueling you.

"That's my girl,"

Oh.

Oh no.

That's all it takes for you to falter. Your mind suddenly completely forgetting the motions for the exercise you watched minutes ago.

"You were doing good just now but, try doing it this way," he says, standing up from where he'd been seated to watch you. His hands correcting your hold on the weights and the positioning of your arms. Every brush of his fingers on your skin leaves electricity in their wake. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. This is so bad.

Trying to remember how to be a normal human being, you nod at his words. Following his guidance and resuming the exercise precisely how he showed you now that your brain is semi-functional again.

"There you go. Good job," perhaps you should be a little more concerned about just how much his praise increases your pulse and worsens the way your panties are already sticking to you, but that's a thought for examining on another day. You can only handle so much right now.

"How about some pull-ups next?"

"Chan, do I strike you as the kind of person even capable of doing a single pull-up?"

"You could learn today,"

When all you respond with is a stone faced expression, he seems to get the message loud and clear, "Okay, fine. I'll do pull-ups and you do squats. How does that sound?"

"Now you're speaking my language,"

On the ever growing list of 'things you're violently unprepared for today', the next to be added is Chan just casually taking off his shirt. That stops you dead in your tracks. Your lips parting as his bare back comes into your line of sight. You thought it was broad before, but now? Seeing it completely bare? Broad feels like too simplistic of a word to describe it.

You knew, logically, that Chan was ripped. You've seen his arms, paying special attention to them more times than you care to admit. All of the guys work out regularly, and most of them mention Chan as one of the more dedicated members of the group when it came to hitting the gym.

You knew all of that, and yet, seeing the evidence a mere few metres in front of your very eyes leaves you speechless and stunned. Chan must notice your blatantly staring because he turns to look at you over his shoulder, "Is everything okay?"

You must struggle to come up with a believable response too long because he both looks and sounds panicked as he continues on, "Shit, did I make you uncomfortable? I should've asked if you were okay with me taking my shirt off. I'm sorry."

His panic must be infectious because you soon find yourself in a similar state, "No, no, Chan, it's okay. You did nothing wrong. I don't mind you being shirtless," quite the opposite actually, and that's the issue, but you decide to keep that bit to yourself.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind putting it back on if it's a problem,"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's really not a big deal,"

He looks unsure briefly but seems to accept your words. Giving you a nod before turning back to face the pull-up bar and begin his routine. You barely register the faint sting in your thighs from how deeply your nails are clawing into them. Eagle eyes drinking in as much as you can of every muscle contraction of his back. Your panties growing uncomfortably wet now as your ears are assaulted with grunts louder than the ones before.

You need to take a cold shower that lasts hours after this. At least you have a good month's worth of masturbation material now, so there's that.

Chan finishes his set far quicker than you would've liked. Sweat drenching his handsome face and droplets running down his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his pecs until they disappear into the waistband of his shorts. Would it be so horrible to admit that you'd love to see just where those droplets wind up? That you'd happily follow their path with your tongue instead of your eyes?

"Hey, is everything okay?" Chan asks, dropkicking you out of your obscene thoughts.

"Ye-Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just um you haven't really moved, and you've been kind of...staring at me?"

Oh no. Oh god, he noticed. No fucking shit he noticed you've probably been staring at him with all of the subtly of a rhino in a tea shop. Why did you have to make a day meant to be catching up with a friend so fucking weird.

"I-sorry. You're just distracting," is what comes out of your mouth in your blind panic.

"Distracting?" He asks, titling his head, "I'm distracting? Distracting how?"

By being shirtless, with all of the noises you've been making all day, by touching me, by telling me what a good job I've been doing, by just existing in the same space as me - are all of the thoughts that spring up in your mind. All the thoughts you show a great deal of restraint in not word vomiting out at him.

To your absolute mortification, an expression akin to understanding dawns on Chan's face. You've never wanted the Earth to spilt open and swallow you whole more than in this moment.

"Oh, I'm distracting huh?" Chan asks with a grin a touch too arrogant for you, taking a step towards you.

"No! It's not - I'm not - I wasn't - it wasn't like that," you stutter out, growing ever more flustered as a shirtless, sweaty Chan invades your space.

"It wasn't like what exactly?" He asks, mischief shining clear as day in his typically warm eyes.

Before you can consciously think about it, you find yourself stepping backwards. Much to the amusement of the man you're not sure if you want to kiss or throttle in front of you.

You decide to abandon the route you were on and attempt another one, "I'm sorry for staring at you."

"You don't have to apologise," Chan waves you off, "But I do want to know why you were staring,"

It's clear as day to anyone with basic critical thinking skills why you were so laser focused on his stupid back and shoulders. He just wants you to say it. You never took Chan for the humiliation type.

"You know why," you mutter, leaning against the wall that you had no idea you'd even gotten so close to. You suppose your brain is too preoccupied with trying to keep your friendship from going up into flames.

"I don't. You have to tell me," You really want to punch that shit eating grin off of his face. Your adrenaline spiking as he takes another step towards you.

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"I've heard that once or twice over the years. Still doesn't answer my question though,"

"I think you're attractive, okay?" You finally blurt out. Looking at everything but him in the gym. Studiously focused on one of the treadmills in towards the back, over his shoulder.

"Aw, I'm flattered," he responds, so close to you now that all you'd have to do is reach out, and you'd be touching his bare chest. You have a feeling this isn't going to bode well for you.

"Whatever. You got the answer you wanted. Are you happy now?"

"You know, for being one of the smartest women I know, you're pretty dense," he responds dryly.

"What? Hey!"

"Do you really think I'd react this way to anyone saying they think I'm hot? Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

All you can do is owlishly blink at him. His words washing over you, trying your hardest to digest what he just said to you.

"I think you might have to spell it out for me, yeah," you mutter more breathlessly than you care to admit. It certainly doesn't become any easier to breathe when Chan is fully in your space, crowding you against the gym wall. His scent flooding your system, worsening the wetness between your thighs and muddling your mind even more.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, mere centimetres away from your mouth. His eyes considerably darker than they were minutes ago.

"Yes,"

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes," if anyone asks, you don't sound needy in the slightest when you reply to him.

You quickly learn that Lee Chan, as with many other facets of his life, excels in kissing you until you can think of nothing but, him. Not your mind has been anywhere else for the past few hours to begin with.

Your hands make themselves at home on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there as you pour what feels like centuries worth of yearning into this kiss.

"May I touch you?" He mutters against your mouth and, you wonder why he'd ever stop kissing you to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes, Chan. You can do whatever you want. I don't care," you rush out in response, dragging his mouth back to yours to feed into what is quickly becoming your newest addiction.

With your green light, his hands drift towards your oversized shirt. Smiling against your mouth when you shudder from the brief brushes of his fingertips along your abdomen while he toys with the hem of your shirt.

"I didn't think you'd be one to tease," you say.

"Have you thought about me like this often?" You really had to be so weak for such an insufferable man huh.

You choose to kiss him instead of replying, tugging on his hair in retaliation for the grin you know is on his face. Luckily for you, Chan seems to have had his fill of toying with you for now. Shoving your shirt upwards, pulling away from you briefly to tug it off of you fully.

He just stares at you. Want clear as day in his eyes as he watches your chest rise and fall and how your sports bra outlines your hardened nipples. You find yourself growing a little self-conscious under his heavy gaze. You hadn't picked your outfit with the goal of winding up like this in mind.

"You're staring," you finally find the courage to say, pushing down every instinct to cross your arms over your chest.

"Just returning the favour," he quips back, jumping back into action and acquainting himself with your throat. You can't help the moans and throaty gasps that leave your lips as his kisses and nips at your sensitive skin, exploiting every weak spot he can find. One of his hands reaching down to fondle your breast, running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

All you can manage to do is lean against the wall for stability. Every kiss and lick and squeeze sending lightning down your spine straight to your clit. You wouldn't be surprised if your legging were wet, too, at this point.

"You're so responsive," he whispers against your neck. Given how quietly he said it, you're not sure whether he meant to verbalise that thought or not, but you can't think to respond when he pushes your bra up.

He dots kisses along your breasts. Each press of his lips bringing him closer and closer to one of your nipples before he envelopes one into his warm mouth. He seems intent to wring every noise, every reaction out of you that he possibly can. Teasingly running his teeth along the sensitive bud, smiling when you arch into his touch. His nimble fingers find themselves at the waistband of your leggings. Slipping into them and pulling a particularly loud gasp from you when they come into contact with your more than likely ruined panties.

Your face burns when Chan's expression morphs into one of surprise, his fingers running along your panty covered slit as if to affirm to himself you're really this wet already.

"I didn't realise I had such a strong effect on you," he says against your breast, his voice gravelly, "Fuck, you're already so wet."

A strangled moan is all you can offer when he finds your swollen clit.

"Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just need to get you out of these," he says, kneeling in front of you and pulling your leggings and panties down. You kick off your shoes impatiently to help ease the process, leaving you almost fully naked.

"I can't believe you're this wet when I haven't even touched you properly," he says, sounding genuinely amazed. Intense gaze focused on your swollen, slick slit. Lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over one of his shoulders.

Anticipation settles in your gut as Chan makes himself comfortable between your thighs. Your hips jolting into him when he experimentally touches you once more, completely bare this time. Your wetness generously coating his thick fingers. Your eyes flutter shut as he shifts closer, goosebumps rising all over your body when his warm breaths hit you.

His first lap of you is messy and passionate. A muffled groan is your only warning before he grips your thigh and all but shoves his face into you. One of your hands fists his hair, not sure if you want him even closer or whether you need a minute from the sensations wreaking your system.

"Ch-Chan ah god," you cry out, your hold on his hair worsening. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, however. Intently focused on grinding your pussy against tongue until you fall into pieces for him.

With his mouth latched onto your clit, he teases your entrance with two of his fingers and you feel faint. His eyes find yours momentarily, looking at you through his hair as he checks for any signs of discomfort or reservations. Watching your face while he slowly sinks his fingers into you. His cock leaking even more when your warm, wet walls squeeze his fingers for dear life. He's so fucked.

The stretch his fingers provide requires some adjusting to, and Chan catches onto that. Focusing his attention back on your clit and providing some distraction while you get used to his fingers.

The wall behind you is proving to be extremely helpful. You're sure you would've crumpled onto the floor by now with the way Chan is determined to devour you whole and his fingers curl inside of you. Embarrassment warming your face as the squelching sounds of your wetness and his fingers moving inside of you hit your ears. Those sounds are accompanied by louder moans and whimpers from you when his fingers strike gold. Finding your weak spot and going for the kill.

He exploits your weaknesses gleefully, assaulting the spot over and over again while he continues his ministrations on your clit. It's no wonder your orgasm doesn't take long to slam into you. Watery cries of his name and jumbled curses echoing throughout the empty gym. You're sure you're hurting him from how fiercely you're gripping his hair. You couldn't remember the last time you'd cum this hard. Sagging against the wall when the most intense parts of it subside.

Chan presses one last kiss to your pussy before easing his fingers out of you. Standing up on unsteady legs, cupping your jaw and slamming his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue further fueling the fog clouding your mind. Desperate hands dragging him closer to you, revelling in his closeness and the firmness of his body against your own.

"If I knew you tasted this good, I would've offered to eat you out a long time ago," he says when you shift to litter kisses on his jaw.

"If I knew you did it so well, I would've let you," you respond with an easy smile. However, any humour in your tone dissipates when you register his cock pressing against your thigh. Scorching and heavy even through the material of his shorts. Fuck.

Your mouth finds his once more. Teeth and tongue clashing with one another as he grinds himself against you, groaning into you.

"Chan, please," you whine.

"Hmm? Please, what?" You're not sure if he's genuinely too disoriented to understand what you're asking of him or if he wants you to beg. Either way, you've long since abandoned any semblance of pride.

"Please fuck me,"

His eyes shut briefly, and you watch the way his jaw clenches, "You're going to be the death of me."

If you weren't aching and noticeably empty, you might've giggled at his words. Watching him shove his shorts and underwear down his thick, muscular thighs through lidded eyes. A fresh wave of wetness gushes out of you when his cock springs free. Of course his cock would look mouthwatering too. Of course.

"You really do like to stare, huh?" he muses, stepping closer to you. Hoisting one of your legs over his elbow.

"Sh-Shut up," you stutter, fingernails digging into his biceps as he drags his cock along your pussy. His cock glistening with your arousal in no time.

"That's not nice," he faux pouts, nudging your entrance with his tip. Your knees almost buckle underneath you. A moan bubbling out of just from him toying with you.

"Chan, please. I want it. I want you, please-"

You're promptly cut off when he pushes inside of you. If you thought the stretch provided by his fingers was overwhelming, the girth of cock brings tears to your eyes. Your strained gasps and his restrained groans intertwining.

Is it possible to cum just from being so full? Lee Chan might just help you answer that question. You're not sure you've ever felt so full and stretched out in your entire life. A few stray tears running down your face already.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking just as wrecked and overwhelmed as you feel. He's practically vibrating from the effort not to move. His cock pulsing inside of you.

"Ye-Yeah. It doesn't hurt. You can move," you respond. It's now or never.

Chan starts off very slowly. Letting you grow accustomed to his girth with every drag of him along your walls. Muttering quiet praises into your neck about how well you're doing, how good you feel, and how you're taking him so well. His words prompting you to clench around him and gush around him.

"Chan, faster, please. You can move faster. It's okay, I can take it," you whine. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps thrusting so slowly. His consideration is sweet. Really, it is, but it's torturous too. From the way he seems to be restraining himself, you assume the feeling is mutual.

Something snaps in him then. His eyes more feral than they were moments ago as he picks up his pace considerably. The sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin mingling with your respective noises of pleasure.

"Taking my cock like such a good girl," he groans into your shoulder, sliding impossibly deeper into you when he angles himself a little differently than before.

Perhaps he's noticed the way his praise impacts you. His filthy mouth not stopping.

"Look, baby," he mutters lowly into your ear, "I want you to look at how well your pussy takes me,"

You can't find it in you to disobey. Chasing the high of being his good girl. So, you glance downwards. Your cheeks heating up as you watch him fuck into you and the way you're being split open by him. You never thought the sight of yourself being fucked would garner such a strong reaction from you but, you've been learning quite a bit about yourself today.

"It's hot, isn't it?" He asks, a moan falling from his lips when you tighten around him, "So hot watching me fuck this pretty pussy of yours."

You've never cum just from penetration but, Chan is proving himself to be head and shoulders above every other man you've slept with. You're completely and utterly caught off guard when you cum for a second time and, Chan seems to be too. Startled, wide eyes watching you shatter in front and around him for a second time. Ever the caring gentleman as he soothes and fucks you through it.

You're barely coherent when Chan's pitchy moans of your name register to your mind and you feel his warm, thick cum flood your awaiting pussy. His hips weakly twitching into yours with ever spurt of his cum inside of you.

Honestly, it's a wonder both of you are still standing. Barely, but you're standing. Leaning into each other and the trusty wall for support as you come back to yourselves.

"If working out with you always ends up like this, we should work out together more often," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder lazily.

You really just had to fall for one of the most eye roll inducing men you've ever met, huh.

[theseeingfawn]

Hi Everyone, I have been working on a small town Elriel fic for awhile now and finally decided to post. This is my first time writing fan fiction so please be gentle with me.

Summary:

Elain Archeron, beloved sweetheart of the quaint town of Hewn Hills, yearns for a life beyond the constraints and expectations placed upon her by her family and community. Azriel Rosehall, a captivating yet misunderstood outsider, struggles with the prejudices of the town as he endeavors to forge his own destiny. Drawn to each other by an undeniable connection, Elain and Azriel are determined to be together, even if it means bringing trouble to the charming small-town. “Everything that's worth having is some trouble. - L.M. Montgomery

Chapter 1: Matchmaker Mayhem | Read on A03

Elain

It's official, this is the worst date I have ever been on. It doesn't make sense. The man is gorgeous, almost devilishly so. I've heard nothing but praise about his charm and wit. I've even seen it myself when he didn't think I was looking. But, the man is a nervous wreck and awkward . Or is it me? Maybe we are just feeding off each other's horrible vibes creating a vortex of our own personal hell. I had been reluctant when my sister all but demanded I go on a date with her friend Lucien. For the last couple of years, all Feyre could talk about is how great Lucien is and how funny and on and on and on . It was almost nauseating. I felt like Feyre was close to hiring a skywriter to let the world know that I was destined for her best friend. Ever since she married Rhysand she has taken up the mantle of matchmaker. So, to spare myself from further harassment I relented. Sure, I knew Lucien, but we have never had a meaningful conversation. Nothing other than pleasantries. I also work hard to keep him at arm's length, despite how often we are forced to interact. I see I was right to keep my distance. He seems as reluctant to be here as I am. I almost feel sorry for him… almost .

I'm glad I had the foresight to pick Velaris as our meeting spot and not Hewn Hills, the small town in the suburbs, where we live. I adore Hewn Hills but it is full of nosy nellies and busybodies. My baby sister is the biggest busybody of them all. So, when I suggested my favorite upscale restaurant in the heart of the city, Lucien readily agreed. It would seem he isn’t a big fan of all the meddling either. Though, I assume for different reasons. Thankfully, no one we know is here to witness our nightmare of a date. It didn't make sense. Despite knowing Feyre for years, and serving on our town council together, Lucien doesn't seem to know a thing about me. Well, other than surface level stuff. I sighed internally, of course he doesn't know much about me. My sisters do not truly know me. They only see the version of me that they wish to see, not the real me. No one really did .

I sit here staring off into the distance like I'm lost in a vision, imagining the bubbly young waitress will come back to end my misery. Really, how many awkward silences must I suffer through? As if reading my mind, Lucien broke the quiet tension with a question. “So, you like to garden? What vegetables do you grow,” Lucien asked with the enthusiasm of a root canal patient.“I actually don't grow vegetables, just flowers and herbs for my shop. Vegetables are much more difficult to grow than people realize.” He nodded. Please, where is the waitress.Then it occurred to me, I could use the bathroom and get away. Maybe I could slip out the window and run. What would he do? Tell my sister I gave him the slip? I'd pay good money to see that. No one would believe him. Yes, sneaking out is the answer. I feel like I've won the lottery for coming up with this brilliant idea. “Excuse me, I am just going to freshen up,” I say with syrupy sweetness. I hope I look graceful and not like I am barreling toward the back of the restaurant like I am fleeing the scene of a crime, but I doubt it. Once behind the closed door of the single occupant bathroom I take my first deep breath of the evening. I look around but there is no window, just a floor to ceiling mirror. Son of a bitch. I sigh and gaze at my reflection searching for an answer. Maybe it was my appearance that rendered him stupid. I’ve heard all my life that I’m beautiful. Not the polite kind of beautiful that every mother dotes onto their daughters. But, the type of beauty that could be used. Before she died, my mother dressed me up like her own personal Barbie doll. Taking personal credit for my appearance and awkwardly telling anyone who would listen that I got it from my mama. I cringe just thinking about it. Even my father had dragged me along to client dinners to dangle me in front of prospective clients like a juicy carrot. My sister Nesta is always watching my back, weary of everyone's intentions. Feyre, the bane of my existence at the moment, all but pimped me out to the dullest man in Hewn Hills because she thought her friend's happiness was more important than mine. Just a pawn to be used to make her life more exciting.

That's not entirely fair.

I know I’m seen as a goodie goodie, a pushover. Maybe I am, I caved to Feyre's demands after all. My sisters love to remind me how I am too sweet for my own good. A chaste virginal angel that they must protect at all costs. My reflection taunts me. Not a hair out of place, a flawless exterior that was pleasing to the eye. But, what had that gotten me? A failed engagement. A cage of my own making. Putting everyone else first and myself second. I shake away the bitterness, burying it deep down. It could be worse. At least Lucien is polite and respectful. I could do this, I could muster some enthusiasm and carry on with this date. No matter how much I wanted to shrink into myself. He is just a man and once it was over I could tell Feyre I had given it my best effort but we weren't a love match. Though I knew I didn't give Lucien my best, in many ways I blame him for what happened with Graysen. I just wanted tonight to be over with so I could go home and binge watch tv without a bra on.

With a new sense of purpose, I step back into the bustling restaurant and head toward the table. Lucien has his back to me as he chats on the phone, “you don't understand Jurian. She's so… so… meek, boring even. I don’t know why Feyre keeps insisting we’re soul mates. I know, she is beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen but she is dull , a snoozefest. Just call me in five minutes with a fake emergency so I can bow out.” Stunned, I dropped my head in defeat. Well, I couldn't blame him for wanting out of the world's most awkward first date. But, to call me meek and boring is just mean. I fought the urge to cry. No need to spill tears over Lucien Vanserra. Besides, it's not like he is the sly and charming man I've heard everyone drone on about. He is the snoozefest. He has barely said a word to me all evening. He is the headliner of the snoozefestival. How dare he!!!

I slide back into my chair and slap on the biggest fake smile I can muster. “Has our waiter stopped by?” I asked, pretending that I don't want to kick him in the shin. “No, not yet. This place is getting packed. It's hard to even hear what you're saying, we can just listen to the music and Ow!” Lucien hunches over and grabs his leg. “Oh my, I'm so sorry! I went to cross my legs but didn't realize you were so close,” I feigned innocence as I bat my eyes at him. I turn my head from his scowl before I start laughing. My eyes peruse the growing crowd of people streaming through the door and there he is.

His dark hair swept back off of his face, dressed in an immaculate black suit that hugs his sculpted form. I don't let myself admit this often but I have a tiny, itty bitty crush on Rhysand's mysterious brother, Azriel . Even his name is beautiful. I have only interacted with him at family functions but the sight of him alone is enough to make me swoon. He is always busy working some sort of mysterious job. I never get a straight answer on what it is that he does because it is all very hush hush. I caught bits and pieces from eavesdropping on conversations when no one was paying attention to me. They rarely pay attention to me. I know it involves surveillance work and traveling, which only adds to his allure. I like to pretend he is a spy like James Bond or even a kingpin in the mob. A dangerous job for a dangerous man. At least I like to pretend he has a dangerous side, he certainly looks like he does. He has dark features and is always draped in black and cobalt blue clothing. He is stoic with a piercing hazel gaze that could slice right through you. He is hard to read but I feel like his eyes give him away. It's the way the corners wrinkle slightly or glow brighter when he is happy. It's how directly he stares when he is mad and fighting the urge to speak out. Despite his appearance, he is always kind and thoughtful toward me. He holds the door for me or pulls out my chair at the dinner table. One time, after I spent all of Thanksgiving day cooking, he took the serving dish from my hands so I could sit down and enjoy the meal I worked so hard on. He even made everyone wait until I sat to eat. Men are rarely that chivalrous these days. The memory sends my heart racing. Azriel is quiet, but not awkward the way Lucien is currently behaving. He is confident and reserved in a way that adds to his enigmatic persona.

I watch him as he walks through the door and turns to the stunning blonde behind him, Mor. He was on a date with her . I recall the time I overheard Feyre telling Nesta that Azriel was in love with Mor. It made sense I suppose, she is gorgeous and has a way about her that makes it seem like she was lit from within. But a part of me doesn’t believe it. Feyre is often wrong about these kinds of things. Look at me and Lucien, she thinks we are fated. But, this date feels like pulling teeth. “Elain, did you hear me?” I shook myself out of my daze, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Lucien let out a sigh, “I asked if you like bread,'' Confused, I looked at the basket that was placed in front of me. I want to roll my eyes. Does he not remember that I own a bakery? “Who doesn't like bread, Lucien?” He scoffed, “you would be surprised, there are people out there who can't tolerate it.” I blink once, and then again. “That was a joke,” he states as if he were teaching humor to a martian. “Oh,” is all I can muster as I look at the bread, pleading with it to save me from this man. A dad joke, really?

Suddenly there is a long dark shadow cast over the table. My eyes shoot up to meet hazel ones. “I hope I'm not interrupting,” Azriel says, appearing like an answered prayer. “Azriel! It’s so good to see you,” I beamed, hoping the relief in my tone isn’t as obvious as it seems. The corner of his mouth ticks upward, “it's good to see you too Elain. I hope you have been well.” Gods he is beautiful and tall. Why is he so tall? He smells divine. I wonder if he is just visiting for a few days? Lucien clears his throat. I look at him, realizing I am still on a date. “Azriel, this is Lucien, you know, Feyre's friend.” Azriel slowly turns to Lucien and dips his head in greeting, turning back to me. “I didn't expect to see you out in the city,” he says with a curious look in his eyes. I smile shyly, “I'm… here on a date.” He looks back to Lucien slowly raking his gaze up and down, a hint of displeasure in his assessment. “I see. I'm just grabbing a bite with Mor.” He turns towards his companion who is sitting at a table across the restaurant. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I’ve taken a new assignment and will be in this area for the next few months. Hopefully we will see more of each other.” My smile widens, I would certainly love to see more of him. Azriel's lip quirks up ever so slightly on one side. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Lucien apologizes and grabs his phone, a puzzled look on his face. “Hold on. It's my roommate. It's odd he is calling since he knowsIi'm on a date.” He answers it quickly, while holding up a finger to shush Azriel and me. “Wait, what's wrong? Calm down.” Wow, he is really committing to the bit. “Are you sure? Okay… I am on my way,” he ends the call and looks up. “I'm sorry to have to do this but there's an emergency and I'm going to have to end our date early.” I fight back a chortle. “Oh no! What kind of an emergency, a flat tire or dead grandma?” Azriel coughs and turns away. Lucien looking stunned mutters out, “uhhh a flat tire.” I wave over the waitress who miraculously appears from nowhere, “Can we get our check?” I turn back to Lucien, “Sorry to hear about your roommates flat tire. I hate when that happens.” Before Lucien can reply, the waitress comes back with the bill. It's for two drinks and a bread basket. I start to pull out my wallet when Azriel clears his throat. Lucien looks from me to Azriel. Azriel asks with an unamused expression, “Aren't you going to pay, since it's a date?” My jaw nearly hits the floor. Lucien sputters and fumbles for his wallet. Hastily slinging a twenty dollar bill on the table. “Well it's been… a date. I will catch you around Elain.” Lucien shuffles around the crowd making a hasty exit. I keel over in a fit of quiet laughter the second Lucien bolts for the door. You know the kind of silent laughter where your shoulders shake and you can hardly breathe? That kind. I feel a warm rough hand stroke my upper arm sending a shiver down my spine. “Hey, it's okay, don't be upset,” came the soothing timbre of Azriel's voice. I look up to see his worried expression and start laughing even harder. His hand stills on my arm and grips me lightly. “Why are you laughing?” he asks, bemused by my giggling fit. I wipe away a few wayward tears as I fight back a bout of hiccups. “ it's just… it's just…” I snort. An honest to gods snort so loud that it draws the attention of at least three neighboring tables. Azriel is smiling fully now. A toothy smile that I just know he rarely gives to anyone. It over takes his whole face making him somehow even more handsome. Seeing him this way suddenly calms my laughing fit and I clear my throat. “It's just, we were having the worst date in the history of dates and he was so desperate to get away he made up an excuse to bail. But, I have to say his acting was pretty solid.” Azriel looks at me a little stunned, “you're not upset, not mad?” I smile again, “I can’t blame him, I wanted to escape through the bathroom window but they didn't have one.” His smile lingers as he stares at me. “You making him pay for the bill was just icing on the cake.” Azriel hums before saying, “it was the least I could do.” I stand and grab my small handbag off the table. “Well, Azriel, I’m happy I got the chance to see you. It’s been too long, I'm glad to hear you’ll be sticking around for a while.” He looks down towards his shoes and back up, the faintest blush on his cheeks. “Have a good evening,” I bid him farewell and walk out onto the street.

I stop to take a deep breath, cleansing myself of the bad date energy. It was terrible but at least I went out and could tell Feyre to back off. It had been several years since I had mustered the courage to date. Not since Graysen. I’m about to take a step when I felt a hand grab the back of my elbow. “Wait, I wanted to make sure you were truly okay.” I whirl around to see Azriel staring down at me. My heart flutters once again, the way it always does in his presence. His face was elegant with high cheekbones, a fine nose and a sharp jawline. In the halo of the street lamp he looked like a fallen angel. His scarred hand was still on my arm, a rose tattoo covered the back of it. “That's very thoughtful of you, but truly I’m okay. My pride is a little wounded but I'll get over it.” He studies me for a long moment before he leans in, “You're too nice Elain.” I stiffen but can't exactly argue. “He's a fool you know? Any man would be lucky to date you.” My stomach fills with butterflies. It was my turn to blush under the weight of his sincere gaze. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You should get back to your date, Azriel. I would hate to take up any more of your time.” He looks over his shoulder and back to me, as if confused. Maybe he was remembering where he was and what he was doing. “Are you sure you're okay? Do you need me to take you home? You could join us…” his thumb tenderly rubbing up and down my arm. He was probably just being kind because I'm Feyre's sister. The thought saddens me. “I'm sure Azriel, no need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” He looks unsure or perhaps he is just reluctant to let me go. His hand is still stroking my arm. “It was lovely to see you, maybe we can catch up another time?” A smile tugs at my lips, “I'd like that.”

Azriel

I can't believe my luck. I get back into the city and happen to bump into the girl I have been obsessing over for months. Truth be told, I have a thing for Elain Archeron. How could I not? She is gorgeous and so incredibly kind. She radiates joy and has a way of making everyone around her feel special. I am normally so good with the opposite sex. Hell I have quite the reputation as a ladies man but something about her leaves me feeling like a lovesick teenager. I wish I had a reason to make her stick around and spend the evening with me but I know I probably shouldn't.

I watch Elain walk away down the crowded street. Utterly lost in the way the wind catches her long golden hair. The way her dress skims over her gentle curves. What I wouldn't do to get the chance to touch her. I exhale slowly, burying my thoughts on her deep down, as I always do. I walk back into the restaurant and sit across from Mor. Once, many years ago I thought I loved Mor. But I mistook her kindness for love. I had never been around a girl my own age until I met her. She is so gregarious and radiates confidence. So when she doted on me, I read the signals all wrong. I built up something that was never really there. It took too long to discover that Mor preferred women. Even after, I held out hope that she would change her mind. Truth be told, it allowed me to keep other women at a distance. If I hid all of my feelings in the safety of Mor's friendship I never had to address my own issues with intimacy. But, I was done hiding behind Mor and living in denial. I started to realize I could never be happy if I didn’t face reality, no matter how scary it was for me to open up to her. It was awkward and she was hesitant to even hear me out. It was worth it though, because now she was my friend and one of my closest confidants.

“So, how was sweet Elain?” she asks. Elain didn't know Mor well, but Mor knew all about Elain. Mor being a family friend of Rhys’ was well informed on the Archeron sisters. “She seems okay, though it looks like she was having a bad date. He actually ditched her.” Mor gapes, “that piece of shit! Who was it?” I sneer, “Lucien Vanserra.” Mor rolls her eyes, “seems as though Feyre finally wore her down.” l hum in agreement. I’ll never understand why Feyre thinks Lucien and Elain would make a good pair. I suspect she wants Lucien to stick around and worries he wouldn’t without some other incentive. Feyre dated Tamlin, Lucien’s former college roommate and friend. After the nasty break up Lucien had taken Feyre’s side. But, he had grown distant and their friendship never fully recovered. So, she clings to the hope that if Elain marries Lucien he will become a permanent fixture in her life. Feyre also loves to meddle in other people's lives. She likes to think she has a gift for connecting people but in reality she is terrible at it. No, truly terrible. Her own love life until Rhys had been a shitshow so it puzzles me why Feyre thought so highly of her skills in the love department. I know Elain is too good for Lucien. I don't hate the man but he doesn’t seem like the type of man she needs. Especially after his pathetic stunt this evening.

I think back to Elain, how utterly beautiful she looked. The way her skin seemed to glow, how her face lit up when she laughed. The utterly intoxicating smell of her jasmine perfume. I hate the thought of her dating Lucian. I hate the way they look together, the way she seems to shrink around him. She is a bright shining light in a world of darkness. She deserves someone who appreciates how special she truly is.

“Hello, Earth to Azriel,” Mor says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “I'm sorry Mor, what were you saying?” She sighs. “I should have known the second you saw her that I'd lost your focus for the evening.” My eyes snap up, face utterly unreadable. “What's that supposed to mean?” Mor pats my hand and I pull it away. I hate it when people touch my hands . “Don't play dumb with me Azriel. I know you too well.” I narrow my eyes, weighing my next words carefully. “I'm not playing dumb. I'm just concerned after Lucien ditched her.” Mor gives me an unimpressed look. “For what it's worth, I think you should ask her out. You two would make the hottest couple.” She pumps her eyebrows at me suggestively. “I'm not going to ask her out… that's absurd… Why would you even suggest that?” Mor tilts her head back and laughs, “oh you have it bad.” I give her an incredulous look, “I can't date anyone, I travel too much for work, not to mention it could be dangerous. Besides, I'm not interested in falling in love.” She gives me her no nonsense face. I want to protest but there is that old saying about protesting too much and I don't want to egg her on. “Let's just drop it and enjoy our evening,” I say, refusing to take the bait. Mor sighs, “here's the deal Azzy, I will enjoy a lovely meal, which you are paying for, by the way. But, I'm not forgetting you are pining after you know who.”

“Fine,” I bite out.

“Have you decided where you are going to stay?” She asks in a tone that feels suspiciously like prying into more than just my place of residence. I shrug, “My assignment is in Windhaven.” Mor scrunches her nose in distaste. Not that I blame her, Windhaven is a shithole. “I don't have to live there full time, but I do have to stay a few days a week.” She nods, “why not stay in Hewn Hills?” There it is, her not so innocent suggestion. It's like she knows what I have planned. She knows me too well. I eye her suspiciously. “Don't give me that look, Az. Velaris is too far from Windhaven, and Hewn Hills is adorable.” It is a nice town, I wouldn't call it adorable. Though there is something there worth adoring . “They have great hiking trails, the parks are beautiful, and the downtown is just like Stars Hollow.” I sigh, “you don't have to convince me Mor, I've already booked a bed and breakfast.” She squeals, and I feel a headache forming. I rub my temple, “don't get too excited. It's the most logical choice.” She claps excitedly, “oh i just love it there, and now I have another reason to visit. You know I love Rita's and don't get me started on Petals.” I give her a perturbed look and pray to the gods that she doesn't read into anything more than she already has. There is only one reason I’m staying in Hewn Hills, Elain . Seeing her with Lucien tonight only reinforces the notion that I need to be close to her. Is it the smart thing to do? No, but I can’t seem to keep away. I’m just glad Mor’s job will keep her distracted from joining Feyre in competing for the biggest pain in the ass award.

[amethystfairy1]

Hey, sorry if this is a bit to dark or perhaps even triggering for you, or too much. You're free to just delete this or keep it or whatever you want to.

I just. I had one of the worst breakdowns I've ever had. An identity crisis, I suppose, that I was a terrible person and that everyone needs to leave me or they'll get hurt and burned. That I was merely placing on a mask and I was nothing underneath. I guess this is what happens if I spiral too much into my thoughts after the sun goes down (one piece of advice is to never listen to your brain after the sun goes down. I usually listen to it, but, tonight was just rough, I guess)

It was near the apex of this breakdown that I checked my Tumblr. For a distraction, a sign, I don't know. You posted the link for "Inkblot Lovely". I decided to go check it out, stay up to date to your series and all.

Scott's entry, I don't think it was the first time I saw it, but it was similar enough to my situation that I had to switch apps to calm down for a second.

It was me, in a sense. It was Jimmy's affection and sure belief in Scott that I was drawn to. I anonymously had a bit of a breakdown in a server I have with some real life friends. A friend anonymously responded that I'm not all of the things I think I am. That I'm not secretly a terrible person that needs to be cleansed.

I don't think that if it wasn't for your fic, I would've accepted the objections to my conclusions so quickly.

I want to thank you for helping me tonight. Thank you, truly. You showed me that I can be loved.

Take breaks, drink water, and eat and sleep well.

This is not dark or triggering or anything like that to me whatsoever! I promise you that! I am so happy and honored to hear that Inkblot Lovely went up at a moment where you needed it.

I'm so happy that Jimmy's affection for Scott in this AU and in this scenario helped you find the courage to talk to some friends in that server, even anonymously. I know sometimes it feels like we're all wearing masks, because we've gotten hurt, or maybe even done some harm in the past, but that doesn't define who are now, and it doesn't make us terrible. Scott's gonna have to learn that in TTSBC, and if in some way reading about him doing that has helped you feel like you can be loved, then that is the greatest and more wonderful thing I could possible hope to hear as a writer, that my stories meant something like this to someone and helped you somehow, because they've helped me a lot this past year as I've been working on them, too.

I am taking breaks, drinking water, and all those other good things, I wish the same to you and very much all the best. All the love in the world, because all of us need to see that we deserve that. 💖

[pluckyredhead]

It's time for more Fourth World thoughts! Previously I've covered the comics of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Now let's talk about the 2000s.

Orion (2000): AHHHHHHH. If you read no other Fourth World book (besides Kirby ofc), please read this one. It is so good and it is so epic and Orion makes so many well intentioned bad decisions and suffers so much. I devoured all 25 issues in 2 days and immediately wanted to reread it. Writing and art are both Walt Simonson and he gives this book such tragic grandeur. He also does my favorite thing which is multiple slow-burning subplots, some of which lasted so long that I was afraid they wouldn't be resolved, but no, every loose end is wrapped up in a satisfying (ish) way by the last issue and I love everyone in this bar. And the art! THE ART!!!

So basically, Orion kills Darkseid (again lol) and becomes the new ruler of Apokolips, and decides he is going to drag this planet over to the side of good kicking and screaming, which...doesn't work out so well for him. Ultimately he winds up semi-accidentally in possession of the Anti-Life Equation, which allows him to completely control people, so he uses it to force people to be good, which...baby, no. This series is like 40% Orion whump, 35% Orion being a badass, 5% Lightray and Orion being blatantly in love, 5% Scott and Orion making dramatic gestures of brotherly devotion, and 5% Orion wearing a stupid hat that I unironically wish I could buy and wear.

It looks like his helmet! I NEED IT.

Also, during his Stupid Hat Era, Orion briefly acquires an orphan girl sidekick, and like...look at my icon. This is my GREATEST WEAKNESS. Simonson, why did you come for me like that???

I have only two quibbles with this series:

1. It's the early 2000s so the only female characters of any significance (besides the aforementioned orphan girl sidekick) are femme fatales who are drawn in ludicrously skimpy outfits and sex inch heels. Now to be fair, Darkseid wears a miniskirt, but the degree of cheesecake of these two characters was ridiculous.

2. The last issue reveals that Scott possesses the Anti-Life Equation naturally, and he once accidentally killed dozens of people with it, and he's tormented by both of these things. Which...the actual issue this story is told in is really good, and I think it's a really interesting idea to have Scott possess the Equation, but I don't love the idea of weighing down this optimistic character who values freedom above all with such a traumatic history of, uh, accidental mass murder. He already grew up in a torture orphanage! Hasn't he suffered enough?!

But honestly, the overall series is so good that I'll let it slide. PLEASE READ ORION (2000). THANK YOU.

Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle (2005): This is part of a set of miniseries Grant Morrison did: there was Seven Soldiers #0, and then 7 4-issue minis, one for each of the Soldiers, and then the whole story concluded in Seven Soldiers #1. I only read Seven Soldiers and the Mister Miracle miniseries because I'm a ridiculous person when it comes to reading comics, but I'm not going to read 24 issues that have nothing to do with the Fourth World.

Anyway, the Mister Miracle mini is actually about Shilo Norman, not Scott, and it's pretty good, even if Shilo should know perfectly well who Darkseid and his entourage are. The surrounding issues were incomprehensible, but maybe they would have made more sense if I had read all the other minis. On the other hand, maybe not...this is Morrison we're talking about, after all. Anyway talk about making comics as inaccessible as possible. Great job, everyone.

Death of the New Gods (2007): I knew right away this comic was going to be dogshit because of a) the title and b) the fact that it's a tie-in to the worst event DC has ever published, Countdown to Final Crisis, but hoo boy, it is DOGSHIT.

Basically, some mysterious being starts murdering New Gods, starting with Lightray and Barda, the latter of whom is murdered in the kitchen - you know, where women belong. Scott then dons a truly idiotic goth version of his costume and the rest of the book is mainly Scott, Orion, and Superman flailing around aimlessly and failing to figure out who the killer is while everyone from New Genesis and Apokolips is slaughtered. It's a truly godawful murder mystery in which implausible suspects are accused at absolute random (the Forever People, the pacifist hippies! Orion, the least sneaky being in existence!) even though Superman deduces the killer (sort of) in #5 and tells the other characters, so there's no reason for them to still be trying to solve it.

Anyway at the risk of ruining this comic for you (impossible, it comes pre-ruined), the killer turns out to be the Infinity Man, but he's actually being piloted by the Source, which is eradicating the New Gods and harvesting their energy in order to create a Fifth World. In #7, a horrified Scott is like "But I've worshiped you all my life! Don't you care about any of us?" and the Source is like, "Eh." The most spiritual and reverent aspect of the Fourth World, and Jim Starlin came along and just dropped a little turd right on top of it (after, of course, blatantly copying Darkseid when he created Thanos).

The art (also by Starlin) is hideous, and the plotting is atrocious, as he desperately tries to stretch six issues of story at best into eight, plus dragging each issue out over 30 pages instead of the normal 22. Everyone is wildly out of character. The only vaguely good thing about the book is that Scott and Orion finally get to spend a significant amount of time together, but given the context, I really don't think it's worth it.

In conclusion: "rocks fall, everyone dies" turns out to not be a good idea for a story! Who knew!

Final Crisis (2008): Well, after 16 years of successfully avoiding this story, I finally read it. You win this one, Morrison.

I have avoided Final Crisis since it came out because it felt so emblematic to me of the worst of late 2000s DC: literally constant crossovers with histrionic stakes, characters being slaughtered left and right, whatever the fuck they did to Mary Marvel in this story. I know it has a good reputation, and if I'm being honest, I do think the first 5 1/2 issues of it are pretty good. On the other hand, if I wasn't very familiar with 2000s DC, I think this would be a very confusing book to read, the final 1 1/2 issues dissolve into incomprehensible, self-indulgent nonsense full of obscure characters and OCs randomly dropped in just to make it all harder for the reader. I'm sorry, I know many people consider Morrison's habit of writing comics that you need a companion volume, twenty Wikipedia tabs, and a Reddit forum to understand to be a feature, not a bug, but it infuriates me. It's like the structure of the Seven Soldiers series(es) up above. Aren't comics impenetrable enough? Must we gatekeep with every page?

Anyway the New Gods stuff: they're all dead, but all the evil ones managed to land on Earth as disembodied souls, and are possessing various humans. The only good one is Orion, who dies at the very beginning when he is shot by Darkseid in the future shooting him with a bullet that travels back in time. I love goofy comics shit but for some reason this one strikes me as real dumb. Also Orion literally died twice in the comic that was about all the New Gods dying, so...hm.

Anyway the evil New Gods take over the planet with the Anti-Life Equation, and again, the pacing and storytelling are actually really good for most of this. But there's also all the worst the late 2000s had to offer, like Mary Marvel in the WORST costume of all time and Supergirl flashing panty shots at the reader while they beat each other up and call each other sluts, or Tawky Tawny being beaten to a pulp before ripping out Kalibak's entrails. Tawky fucking Tawny. SIGH. Also they keep miscoloring Shilo as white. NOT GREAT.

Honestly at this point I'm like begging for the New 52 to happen and put me out of my misery, so...good job, DC? I want to go back to Orion (2000), that was great.

Next up: the 2010s! Which is all the New Gods books, they haven't had a series yet this decade. We're almost done, gang.

[justsomewritingblog]

Late Night Lessons

Request:  None

Requested By:  Nobody

Prompt: "You are possibly the worst I've ever trained." "Thanks for the encouragement."

Pairing:  Harry Potter x Gryffindor!OC/reader

Summary:  Drastic measures are taken when Umbridge takes over Hogwarts, forcing the students to practice magic on their own. A certain Gryffindor is having difficulties, though...

Warnings:  some mentions of injury and wounds (Umbridge's detentions), distant family

A/N:  I know they had the meeting in Hogsmeade before finding the Room of Requirement, but the conversation felt like it flowed naturally this way, so I left it.

Word Count:  5K+

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

This was the worst year of my life.

Dolores Umbridge had taken over the school, restricting everything under the sun and causing torment for anyone that even thought about stepping out of the line she had drawn.  

I walked with Hermione back to the Common Room, grumbling about the lack of practice in DADA.

“I mean, honestly,” I complained, “how does she expect us to defeat Voldemort if we can’t get any practice?”

“I know.  The readings aren’t even very useful.”

“They’re useless!”  I gestured wildly.  “It’s not like Voldemort’s going to quiz us when he finally decides to rear his ugly head.”

Hermione was silent as I continued to rant, waving my free hand through the air and nearly accidentally slapping her a couple times.

I could feel my anger rising the more I spoke, just thinking about the situation getting me more and more upset.

“We need a workaround,” Hermione interrupted.

I turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.  “Excuse me?”

“We need a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  Someone with experience.”

I let out a scoff.  “And who would that be?”

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

“I don’t know if I can, Hermione.”

“Harry, we don’t have much of a choice,” the muggle-born pressed.  “You’re perfect for the job.”

“And what if we get caught,” Ron questioned.  “We’re likely to be in some serious trouble.”

I leaned forward in my seat.  “Then we’ll just have to make sure we don’t get caught, won’t we?”

The three turned to me.

“And how do you propose we do that,” Harry questioned.

“I’m not sure yet.  But we need to find a safe place.”  I held my chin in thought.  “Somewhere that’s off the radar…that we can work in privacy and security.”

The room fell silent as we all thought.

“An empty classroom might do it,” Ron suggested.

“It might,” I acknowledged.

“We’d have to place some protection charms, then,” Hermione noted.  “Just in case someone walks in.”

“Especially if it’s noisy.”

“We’re bound to draw attention to ourselves either way,” Harry spoke up.  “If anyone sees a bunch of students going to the same place-”

“That’s an easy fix,” I said.  “We’ll just have to split up into smaller groups of twos and threes and have everyone show up at different times.”  I looked over at Harry, holding his gaze in an attempt to provide him some assurance and strength.  “No one will be the wiser.”

A few beats passed and he nodded.

“It’s settled, then.”  Hermione looked between the three of us.  “We’ll start looking tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’d probably be best if we split up,” I whispered to Hermione, Harry and Ron.  “We can cover more ground that way.”  I shrugged one shoulder.  “And maybe it’ll look less suspicious.”

The three nodded.

“I’ll take this side,” Hermione gestured behind her.  “Harry, you take that way,” she pointed to her left, “Davies, you that way,” she pointed ahead of herself, behind me, “and Ron, you that way,” she gestured to the right.

“What are we doing?”

Everyone spun to face the new voice.

“Neville…” I greeted with a grin that looked more like an anxious grimace.  “What’s going on?”

He looked down at me.  “I was about to ask the same thing.”  His gaze shifted between everyone in the group.

We all exchanged glances.

“We’re building an army,” Harry admitted quietly.  “We’re looking for somewhere private and safe to practice magic.”

“You can help us look, if you want,” Ron piped up.

Neville was silent for a few moments before nodding.  “Which way do I go?”

“Er…” I trailed off.  “Wherever you want, I guess?”

“We already each have a way, so you can pick your own,” Harry said.

“Unless I group with Hermione, or two of you boys group,” I suggested, crossing my arms.  “Since boys and girls aren’t supposed to be within six inches of each other.”

Silence followed.

“I’ll go with Harry,” Ron finally said.  He glanced over at his friend.  “We’re always together, anyway.  It might look more suspicious if we’re apart.”

“Good point,” I admitted.

“Alright.”  Harry nodded, looking between everyone.  “Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I made my way through the school, observing every door.  With each one I passed I mentally made notes on them.  So many of them were in crowded halls.  There was no way we were going to be able to use them secretly.

Letting out a huff, I tugged on my hair in annoyance as I turned another corner.  

Dead end.

With a sigh, I headed back to the Common Room.

Maybe the others had better luck.

~~~~~~~~~

I strode back to the Common Room as quickly as I could, desperate to hear how the others did.  Approaching the Fat Lady, I instantly supplied the password, not even slowing my steps and walking inside.

The portrait closed behind me.

My name was called and I turned, seeing the golden trio and Neville waving me over.  I walked over, sitting on the floor between Harry and Hermione.  “How’d we do,” I asked.

“Neville found a secret room,” Harry supplied quietly, leaning over to avoid the rest of the students hearing.

I looked over at him, slightly taken aback by the proximity and the intensity of his blue eyes.  I blinked before clearing my throat.  “That’s great,” I said hoarsely.  I forced my gaze to Neville.  “Where is it?”

“It just appeared on the wall.  I’ll show you guys when I can.”

“We want in, too.”

We all snapped our heads to the voice, seeing Fred and George leaning over us.

The matching serious expressions looked very out of place on their faces.

Harry looked up at them.  “Fine.”

“We should find out who else is interested,” Hermione suggested.

“We have to be careful, though.”  I looked over at her.  “We don’t want anyone telling Professor Umbridge,” I warned.

“Who do we really trust?  We can’t exactly just send out an advertisement,” Hermione said.

The group fell silent.

“We’ll work on that,” Harry decided.

I nodded and looked over at Neville.  “Where’s this room?”

~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve done it, Neville,” Hermione said as you all observed the large, open room.  “You’ve found the Room of Requirement.”

“The what,” Ron asked.

“It’s also known as The Come and Go Room,” she expanded.  “The Room of Requirement only appears when a person has real need of it, and is always equipped for the seeker’s needs.”

“So…say you really needed a toilet…”

Everyone turned to look at the redhead.

“Charming, Ronald,” Hermione said.  “But yes…that is the general idea.”

“It’s brilliant,” Harry finally spoke up.  “It’s like Hogwarts wants us to fight back.”

I looked around before turning to Harry.  “Maybe it does.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Neville stared at the practice dummy, his wand raised.

Harry gave an encouraging nod.

Neville looked back to the dummy.  “Expelliarmus!”  His wand flew backwards out of his hand.

I, and everyone else in line, ducked out of the way.

“I’m hopeless,” Neville mourned.

“You-you’re just flourishing your wand too much,” Harry advised.  He held up his own wand.  “Try like this.”  Looking at the dummy, he flicked his wand.  “Expelliarmus!”

The dummy’s ‘wand’ flew onto the floor.

I grinned.

The line in front of me shortened as Ron, Hermione and Luna all tried, each with varying levels of success.

Harry looked over at me.  “Your turn.”

I nodded, stepping forward and raising my wand.  Taking a deep breath, I narrowed my eyes at the dummy.  “Expelliarmus!”

The fake wand shot out of its hand, landing a few feet away.

I grinned as I put my wand in my pocket.

“Nice work,” Harry said, nodding at me with a smile as he placed the wand back in the dummy’s hand for the next student.

I beamed at him, moving to the side to allow Fred to go.

“Great job,” Hermione whispered to me as Fred and George easily performed the spell.

“Thanks,” I whispered back.  “You, too.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Stunning is one of the most useful spells in your arsenal,” Harry stated, walking between the two sides we had formed.  “It-it’s sort of a wizard’s bread and butter, really.”

I made a confused face at the odd analogy.

Ron chuckled.

“...on then, Nigel,” Harry said.  “Give me your best shot.”

Everyone turned to look at the first- or was that second- year boy standing several paces opposite an unarmed Harry.

The ginger boy shuffled a little on his feet before aiming his wand at Harry.  “Stupefy!”

The spell hit Harry and he shot backwards, landing hard on his back.

Nigel also got flown backwards, though not as far.

I winced.

“Good,” Harry said, a little breathless as he pushed himself off the floor.  “Not bad…at all, Nigel.  Well done.”  He stood, clearing his throat and dusting off his hands.  “Next.”

Ron and Hermione stepped forward, sharing a quiet exchange, before Ron walked to the other side of the room, standing where Harry had.

They studied each other for a moment.

Ron opened his mouth, but he was too slow.

Hermione yelled out the spell, shooting Ron backwards.

I covered my mouth with my hand, eyes wide.

“Next.”

I stepped forward, turning to see who else had joined me.

One of the Weasley twins stood before me, too far away to tell which one it was.

I did my best to mask my apprehension.

“I’ll go easy on you, love,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.  “I am two years ahead of you, after all.”

“Don’t do me any favors, Weasley,” I shot back, trying to force my nerves down as I raised my wand.

The twin shrugged, moving back to the spot Ron had previously occupied. 

“You got this, Freddie,” the other twin called.

I narrowed my eyes at the twin I now knew to be Fred, swallowing a lump in my throat.  I snapped my arm forward, yelling out “stupefy!”

Fred blocked it with another spell, sending a “stupefy” my way.

The spell came at me so quickly I had no time to deflect it.

I flew backwards, landing on the ground with a very audible thud.  I winced.

Fred leaned over me moments later.  “Sorry, Davies.”

I groaned.  “I thought you said you’d take it easy on me.”

He shrugged, giving me a cheeky grin.  “You said not to do you any favors.”

Letting out a huff, I nodded in recognition.

His grin grew as he reached down a hand to help me up.  Pulling me to my feet, he clapped a hand on my shoulder before walking back to his counterpart.

“Next,” Harry called.

I rubbed at my back as I moved out of the way for the next students.

“Are you alright,” Harry asked quietly.

I turned to look at him, meeting his concerned gaze.  “I’ll be fine.”  I smiled at him.  “Thanks.”

He held my eyes a moment longer before nodding, turning sharply away from me to look at the dueling students.

~~~~~~~~~

“Have you heard?”

I turned my head to Hermione briefly before looking back towards where I was going.  “Heard what?”

“Professor Umbridge is holding interrogations between classes,” she hissed.

I snapped my head towards her.

“She knows something’s going on.”

My steps slowed to a stop.  I stared at Hermione for a long moment.  “She can’t get to us, can she?  I mean…” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “won’t the Room know that it needs to keep her out and adjust for it?”

“I don’t know.  I suppose it depends on the magic of Hogwarts in comparison to her own.”

I huffed, falling into step beside Hermione as she started walking again.

After several beats of silence, Hermione quietly wondered “I wonder what she uses to try to get the students to talk…”

I frowned.  “I don’t want to know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Very good- keep your concentration,” Harry said as he made his way through the groups of students.  “Nice work.”

I focused on levitating one of the third years, my eyes narrowed as I tried to keep him up.

“Good job,” Harry’s soft voice came from right beside my ear.

My attention faltered, the third year dropping slightly before I regained focus and kept him hovering, though lower than previously.

“Widen your stance just a little,” Harry advised.

I felt a pair of hands land on my waist, a foot working its way between mine to shove them a little further apart.

A quiet, but audible gasp escaped me as my face flared.

The boy fell.

I blinked at him.  “I am so sorry.”

He stood, rubbing his elbow.  “It’s alright.”

I turned to glare at Harry, who stood only a few inches away from me.

Our eyes locked and my expression, without my consent, lost most of its malice.

He looked over at me.  “Sorry.”

I hummed, wanting to look angry at him, but finding myself unable to.

He held my gaze before clearing his throat.  “Try again.”

At my hesitant nod, he moved on.

I let out a harsh exhale, turning back to the third year.  “Are you ready to try again?”

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “Are you?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Working hard is important,” Harry began, adjusting people’s grips on their wands as they practiced against each other.  “But there’s something that matters even more: believing in yourself.”  He helped a student send a spell at another before moving on, after looking to see if they were alright.  “Think of it this way…every great wizard in history has started out as nothing more than what we are now…students.”  He continued to move through the room, maneuvering around people.  “If they can do it, why not us?”

I smiled.

Harry pulled out the practice dummy again, wheeling it between everyone.  “Form a circle.”

Everyone walked closer.

“Now, don’t let the dummy touch you,” he instructed.  “If it gets close, send a spell at it to knock it away.”

I pulled out my wand.  “Sounds like a game, Harry,” I said, grinning.

He grinned back.  “It is.  Kind of.”  He looked back to the rest of the students.  “Alright- someone send the first spell.”

Fred was quick to cast a “stupefy” at the dummy.

It shot across from him, towards one of the fourth years.

“Wingardium leviosa!”

The dummy spun around the room, getting spell upon spell cast at it.

“Stupefy!”

It spun to Neville.

“Expelliarmus!”

It rocketed towards Ginny.

“Reducto!”

The dummy exploded into ashes.

Everyone whipped their heads to face the youngest Weasley in amazement.

“Geez, Ginny,” I muttered, looking back to the pile.

~~~~~~~~~

Harry moved to step in front of everyone, Ron and Hermione on either side of him.  “So, that’s it for this lesson.  Now, we’re not going to be meeting again until after the holidays…”

Disappointed groans filled the room.

“So, just keep practicing on your own as best you can, and- and well done everyone.  Great, great work,” he said with a proud smile.

Everyone clapped.

Students began to file out of the room, thanking him as they went.

I hung in the back with Ron and Hermione, waiting for everyone to get their turn, as well as not having everyone rushing out of the same place at the same time.

We didn’t need to draw more attention to ourselves than we already had.

Once everyone had left, Harry approached the three of us.

“Good job, Harry,” I said, smiling at him.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed.  “Well done, mate.”

Hermione grinned.  “I told you that you’d do well, Harry.”

The Boy Who Lived stopped in front of us.  “Thanks.”  He looked between us.  “You’re all doing really well, too.”

“Well, it helps to have a teacher with experience,” I stated.  “The only other people here with experience like that are actual teachers, and they can’t help us.”

Ron and Hermione sent quiet goodbyes our way, saying they’d see us in the Common Room.

I waved.

“See you, guys,” Harry replied.  When the two left, Harry turned back to me.

Silence filled the air.

I wrapped my arms around myself, lowering my gaze to the floor as I scuffed my foot against the stone.  Clearing my throat, and without looking up, I asked “do you have any plans for the holidays?”

Harry shrugged.  “I don’t really have a family to go back to, and Sirius is…” he trailed off.

“Elsewhere,” I supplied.

Harry nodded before looking up at me.  “What about you?”

“I’m staying at Hogwarts for the holidays,” I confessed.

Harry addressed me silently for a few moments.  “Do you have a family?”

I looked over at him.  “Yes.  But they’re away.”  I turned my head to the side, looking at the wall.  “Some business trip, or something.”

“Well, we’ll be here together, at least.”

My gaze shifted to the boy and I let a small smile form on my face.  “Yeah.”

We stood in a few more beats of silence before Harry spoke up.

“We should get going.  I think enough time has passed.”

I nodded, gesturing to the door.  “After you, Potter.”

~~~~~~~~~

“I snagged these from the kitchen.”  Grinning, I set a plate of cookies down on the table in the Common Room.

Harry looked up at me from his spot on the couch, his expression a mix of amusement and shock.  “You stole them?”

I shrugged one shoulder, sitting down beside him as I picked up a cookie.  “We practically have Hogwarts to ourselves.”  I bit off part of the cookie and chewed it.  “Unless these were for the teachers.”

Harry reached forward, taking a cookie for himself.  “Well, if you’re eating them, I might as well.”

I sent a crooked grin his way.  “I really pulled your arm there, didn’t I, Potter?”

He chuckled, a little bashfully, as he ate his treat.

We fell into silence, the only sounds being our own breathing and the crackling of the fireplace.

The fire’s warm glow filled the room, the heat radiating off of it covering me like a cozy blanket.

The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, snow falling in front of the window.

I let out a long content sigh, relaxing into the couch and letting my eyes flutter closed.

This was the epitome of comfort.

The couch shifted beside me and I opened my eyes, turning to look at Harry.

He glanced at me before looking back at the table sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

I chuckled.  “You’re good.”

The silence that followed was slightly tense.

“Is Christmas your favorite holiday,” I asked, leaning forward to better see Harry, resting my elbows on my knees.

He looked over at me.  “Probably.”  Glancing back at the cookie tray, he rubbed his hands together.  “It was never very nice with my Aunt and Uncle, but since coming to Hogwarts, I’ve enjoyed it more.  I get to spend the holiday with the people I care about.”  He looked over at me.  “If that makes sense.”

I nodded.  “Absolutely.”

“What about you?”

I clasped my hands together, looking at them.  “Well… my family isn’t very close.”  I pulled my hands apart, gesturing with my right.  “We would spend the holiday together, but it wasn’t like the Christmas’ I would hear about from the other families I knew.  Theirs would be filled with laughter and happy memories.”  I looked at the fireplace, resolutely not looking at the boy next to me.  “I got presents, and we would be together all day, but…” I trailed off, shrugging.  “I don’t know.  It just…felt fake.”  I finally looked over at Harry, meeting his concerned blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I smiled somewhat sadly.  “Well, like you said, now I have Hogwarts.  I have you, Hermione and Ron.”  My smile grew.  “I have Ginny, the twins, Seamus…”  Reaching forward, I grabbed Harry’s left hand with my right.  “I enjoy Christmas a lot more than I used to, too,” I finalized, reaching forward to grab another cookie with my free hand.

Harry smiled, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before grabbing another cookie, himself.  “Merry Christmas, Davies,” he said quietly as we settled back into the couch.

“Merry Christmas, Potter.”

~~~~~~~~~

I made my way to Harry’s class, strolling through the castle halls.  I was still going to be early, and I had to make sure to not draw any suspicion to myself, so I wasn’t hurrying.  Nearing the entrance to the Room of Requirement, I turned a corner.

The sight had my steps faltering slightly.

I quickly recovered, crossing my arms and halting in my steps, plastering a confident smirk on my face.  “Well, if it isn’t Malfoy and his goons… formerly.”

Draco sneered, marching towards me with quick steps, Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him.

They walked behind him, as they always did.

I briefly wondered if they knew that Draco only kept them around to be his bodyguards and viewed them as no more than that.

“What did you say, Davies?”  Draco’s tone was harsh as he approached me, using his height to try to intimidate me.

I looked up at him.  “Well, I said ‘formerly’, because you’re no longer ‘Malfoy’s gang’.”  I took my time in raking my gaze across the three of them, eyes drifting across the badges they’d received from our new ‘headmaster’, letting my words sink in.  “I’d say ‘Umbridge’s puppets’ is much more fitting…” I looked up and held Draco’s cool gaze, lowering my voice slightly, making sure to add bite to it.  “Don’t you?”

Anger flashed through his gray-ish blue eyes.  “I could take you in, Davies,” he said sternly, gesturing at the badge hanging from his robe.  “I have the authority.”

I let out a short laugh.  “For what?”

He looked down at the space between us before looking back up at my eyes.  “You’re within six inches of me, Davies.”

“You invaded my space,” I reminded.

Malfoy grabbed my arm, leaning down slightly to crowd me as he gave a vicious smirk.  “Professor Umbridge doesn’t know that.”

My eyes widened as he dragged me away.

~~~~~~~~~

I hurried to the Common Room, cradling my hand to my chest.  Stopping in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, I wiped my watery eyes and quickly uttered the password.

The portrait swung open, even as the Fat Lady looked at me with concern.

Stepping in, I went to make a beeline straight to my dorm but a call of my name had me halting in my quest.

I closed my eyes.  If I didn’t go over, they would know something was wrong.  Taking a brief second to steel myself, I turned around, approaching the three Gryffindors sitting on the couch.  “What’s up, guys?”  I forced my tone to sound more cheerful.

“What happened,” Hermione questioned.  “You weren’t in class…” she prompted quietly.

“I…” I pulled my sleeves down over my hands.  “I got held up.”

“We were worried about you,” Ron said.

I smiled at him.  “Thanks, Ron.”

“You missed a good lesson,” Hermione informed.  “We started learning about how to cast a Patronus.”

“Really?”  I shifted my gaze to Harry before looking back at Hermione.  “How’d it go?”

“It’s bloody hard,” Ron deadpanned.

Hermione gave him a slightly exasperated look before smiling up at me.  “It is difficult, but we’ll get it.”  She looked over the red head to look at the Boy Who Lived.  “Harry’s been trying to walk us through it.”

I shifted my gaze to Harry.  “How’s that been going?”

He smiled.  “It’s the hardest thing we’ve done yet, so it’s a little challenging.”

I nodded, looking to the wall as my hand trembled.  I slowly reached my other hand over, resting it on top of it.

“Are you alright?”

My head whipped back to look over at Harry, dropping my hand instantly.  “Yeah.  Why?”

Harry looked at me for a few moments before holding his hand out, palm up.  “Can I see your hand?”

Hermione and Ron fell silent, turning to look at us.

I stared at Harry, remaining as stoic as I could.  I gave him my right hand.

He didn’t break eye contact with me.  “The other one.”

“Harry-” I tried to protest, but he reached forward, taking my left hand carefully and rolling up my sleeve.  I winced at the sudden air to the open wound, as well as the knowledge that everyone was staring at it.

Everyone gasped.

‘I must not harass boys’ was carved across my hand.

Harry looked up to meet my eyes, his blue eyes filled with fury.  “What-”

“It was Malfoy,” I interrupted, looking down at the words in my irritated skin.  I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the lump that formed there.  “He claimed I had crossed the ‘six inch’ rule to get at him.”  I clenched my right hand.  “In reality, he was the one that invaded my space.”  Letting out a huff, I moved my gaze from my hand to the floor.  “But of course, it was the testimonies of three against one.”

“Crabbe and Goyle,” Ron supplied, frowning.

I nodded.

Hermione reached out, holding my other hand.

I looked up at the ceiling, trying to force the tears away.

A silence fell over the group, which Ron thankfully broke.

“Malfoy’s the worst.”

~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it.”  Harry walked through the students.  “Think of a powerful memory.  The happiest you can remember.  Allow it to fill you up.  Keep trying, Seamus.”  He walked over to the twins.  “George, your turn.”

George flicked his wand.  “Expecto Patronum!”

Pale wisps, a whitish blue, spiraled out of his wand.

Harry continued walking.  “A full-bodied Patronus is the most difficult to produce, but shield forms can also be equally useful against a variety of opponents.”

Ginny’s wisps turned into a horse head that whinnied.

Harry beamed.  “Fantastic, Ginny!”  He kept walking.  “Remember, your Patronus can only protect you for as long as you stay focused, so Luna-!”

The girl kept staring at the floor.

Hermione’s Patronus, an otter, floated around her head.

“Think of the happiest memory you can.”

“Expecto Patronum.”  Neville’s wand let out a few spirals, but nothing more.  He turned to Harry.  “I’m trying.”

“I know,” Harry assured.  “It’s good.”  He moved on, even as Ron’s dog Patronus ran between Neville’s legs, knocking the boy over.  “This is really advanced stuff, guys, you’re doing so well!”

A bunny formed in front of Luna, hopping around the room.

My wand sparked again.

I glared at it.

“Stupid wand,” I grumbled under my breath.  The urge to throw the thing that had chosen me five years ago was getting increasingly difficult to ignore.  I huffed, closing my eyes, trying to focus.

“How’s it going?”

I snapped my eyes open, looking over at Harry.  I was certain he could guess based on the expression I was sure was on my face, but I humored him.  “Dreadful.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Watch.”  I closed my eyes again, focusing hard on my memory.  I opened my eyes again, holding my wand out.  “Expecto Patronum!”

My wand let out a few white sparks.

I looked over at Harry.  “Maybe my wand’s busted.”

“I think that’s unlikely.  What memory are you thinking of?”

I hesitated, gaze shifting between his eyes.  “Getting my Hogwarts letter.”

“That’s your strongest happy memory?”

My gaze lowered to my wand.  “It was all I could come up with.”

Harry pursed his lips, regarding me thoughtfully.

I shifted a little uncomfortably under his stare.

“We could try private sessions?  I’ll work with you one on one.”

I sighed, nodding.

Harry clapped a hand on my shoulder before continuing on his way.

~~~~~~~~

Harry and I walked to the Room of Requirement, hidden under his invisibility cloak.

My heart raced as we strode through the empty halls, terrified of encountering a teacher and a little unnerved at being in such close proximity to anyone, let alone Harry Potter.

The Room of Requirement opened and we walked in, the door closing behind us.

Harry pulled the cloak off us and I let out a breath of relief.

“Merlin, that was scary,” I mumbled.

“Sneaking around after hours still unnerves me a little, too,” Harry remarked, dropping the cloak to the side.  “It gets easier the more you do it, though.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.  “Got it: break the rules more often.”

He deadpanned at me before his expression shifted into a grin.  “Very funny.”

I grinned back.  “I thought so.”

Harry shook his head, moving to stand beside me.  “Alright.  I hope you have your wand on you, or we’ll have to sneak all the way back.”

I grimaced, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my wand, a quiet sigh of relief escaping me.

Harry nodded.  “Good.”  He gestured at me.  “Alright, think of your happiest memory.”

I held my wand out in front of me, once more thinking of receiving my letter.  “Expecto Patronum!”

Nothing.

Not even sparks.

I huffed.

“That’s okay.  Try again,” Harry encouraged.

And so I did.

For half an hour.

“Do you have any happier memories?”

I looked over at Harry.

“Remember, it has to be strong,” he advised.

I huffed, closing my eyes.  Getting my letter wasn’t enough.  Maybe arriving at Hogwarts?  Seeing the school for the first time was definitely one of my favorite memories.

Opening my eyes, I brought my wand forward, a new determination filling me.  “Expecto Patronum!”

A few wisps left my wand before dying out.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.

Harry patted my back.  “That was an improvement.”

I whipped my head around to glare at him.

He pulled his hand off me, raising his hands in surrender and taking a step back.  “Sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Harry.”

He pursed his lips.  “Let’s go to bed.  We’ll try again tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Expecto Patronum!”

My wand produced a few wisps, lasting longer than before, but still dying out rather quickly.

Harry chuckled.

“Harry Potter!”  I glared at him.  “We have been doing this for almost a week- don’t you dare!”

He held up his hands.  “Sorry.  It’s just… you are possibly the worst I’ve ever trained.”

I deadpanned at him.  “Thanks for the encouragement.”

“I think you need some happier memories,” he admitted, his smile fading.

I frowned, looking down at the ground.  “Well, I won’t argue with that.”

He walked over to me.  “What do you care about?  What’s important to you?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his, staring at him in silence for several moments.  “My friends.  You, Hermione, Ron…”

Harry nodded.  “So think of a memory with us.  Was there a memory with us that filled you with such a happiness you’d never experienced before?”

I paused, looking away as I tried to think.

Meeting the golden trio was fun.  I enjoyed listening to them as they told me about their adventures.  Spending time in the library studying.  Visits with Hagrid.

Then it came to me.

I remembered the Christmas holiday.  I thought back to the warm fire, the tasty cookies I had snuck out of the kitchen, the comfortable silence, the winter coziness that I had shared with Harry.

I had never felt more content in my life.

I looked back up at Harry.  Lifting myself to stand tall, I turned back to the open space before me and raised my wand.  “Expecto Patronum!”

Pale wisps emerged from my wand, spiraling out.

A chestnut mare formed at the end of them, tossing its head and neighing.

Harry beamed.  “You did it, Davies!”

I turned to face him, grinning.  Reaching towards him, I pulled him into a tight hug.  “Ugh, after weeks-!”

“You did it,” he congratulated, hugging me back.

I sighed in relief, resting my chin on his shoulder.

He mirrored the action for a few moments before we separated.  “What was your memory?”

I blinked at him, face flushing.  I wrapped him in another hug, just so I didn’t have to look at him.

He stiffened, taken aback, but returned the hug again.

“Do you remember the Christmas holidays…” I trailed off, keeping my arms around him.

I felt him nod against me.  “Yeah.”

I paused.  “Do you remember the night I stole the cookies from the kitchen?  The snow was falling, and the Common Room was decorated…” I tightened my hold of him.  “We were sitting on the couch… the whole place to ourselves…”

At Harry’s prolonged silence, I loosened my grip, pulling away slightly, but not enough to look at him.

“Harry?”

“I- I remember.”

I waited a few beats before stepping back so I could look at him.

He met my eyes, but I couldn’t read his expression.

I held his gaze, ignoring the way my voice wavered and my cheeks reddened.  “It meant a lot to me, Harry.”

He swallowed.  “It meant a lot to me, too.”

Staring at him, I tried to figure out what exactly he was trying to imply by that.  I took a step towards him.  “Did it,” I asked quietly.

He nodded, his gaze flickering to my lips briefly.

It was all the confirmation I needed.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes.

He returned it instantly.

Our lips moved together clumsily, but it filled my heart with warmth.

I reached up, resting my left hand on his shoulder and threading my other fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

He placed one hand on my waist, the other cradling my jaw.

I pulled away first, keeping my hold on him as I opened my eyes.

He smiled at me as we both tried to even out our breathing.

I beamed at him, chuckling, and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

Harry met my gaze when I pulled away.  “I don’t know if we should have done that.”

My smile dropped instantly, arms falling to my sides.

A mischievous crooked grin formed on his face.  “I am your teacher, after all.”

I scoffed loudly, slapping him in the arm.

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

A/n: This was really fun to write, too. I've been on a Harry Potter kick, so expect more stories soon.

Oh! And if anyone is curious as to why I chose the patronus I did, I found this life-saver right here.

Tag List:

[hinamie]

I didn't truly write that thinking "the fandom will be happy with more content!", though that is also true, or about how people will look swiftly at your art and not give it as much thought as you did. They may! It was more that... it would be lovely even so? haha I love to look and look again and use as loxkscreen the art I love, and sometimes it makes me start noticing that maybe some things are weird. Maybe that hand is a bit strange, that nape is too plain, that shadow makes the arm a bit weird,... but that is often a consequence of the unique aspect of a piece and many times linked to the specific artstyle of an artist, and thus part of what makes the art charming. And it's something logical for nothing to ever be perfect (though I totally totally get the drive to at the very least try). Not even the big classic artists do everything perfect. You know Raphael's sixth finger? Honestly I 100% think it's people overreading a perspective that turned out to be a bit weird and a hand that was drawn a bit too wide perhaps (the supposed sixth finger is so clearly the hand to me). Caravaggio is wonderful but at times I've thought there's a forearm that looks a bit strange if I look at it a lot. Leonardo has some very weird stuff at times too. Just to name a few haha. I don't know. Humanity is intrinsically fallible, perfection is but an utopia we can try to achieve but never get to, and a piece of art is a neverending process but by decision. And that's part of its charm too. Like Duchamp's broken glass, or how rain makes petals fall and damages the flowers, even though it looks so beautiful. I don't know haha. I didn't want to try and push you into posting more stuff, I hope it didn't came off that way. Just that. Know that some people do stare intently and do like to deeply analyse fandom pieces, and it's great, even with the small imperfections. They're bound to happen. Of course they haunt us haha it's always haunting. But what would life be without ghosts I suppose haha

Sorry to bother you again but I truly wanted to make sure I didn't come off as pushing for you to post more stuff or made you feel your effort to make things perfect and deep would be unappreciated, or turn out to be unimportant because no one would give too much time or thought to art, just look at it. It's definitely not what I wanted xD Hope you have an excellent day!

you're no bother, I didn't read your previous ask that way at all! I ws moreso like. adding onto what you were saying as more examples of reasons why my anxieties r probably unfounded. and i was generalizing a bit yes ghjsdf i know there are people who look at art for longer than the time it takes to hit like or reblog, and I appreciate the love they show my pieces dearly!!

as for the mistakes/quirks in art that show an artist's unique touch or serve as a reminder that there is a person behind every piece I do agree !! i love when you can see evidence of the person who made a piece of art n recognize those little markers of humanity. it's like that meme tho, the "you don't have to be perfect to be loved. me on the other hand," n the fact that I Am My Own Worst Critic i wld throw hands with the bitch i see in the mirror in a Heartbeat. most of my issues boil down to the fact that i have trouble giving anything less than 100% in what i do or being proud of products I don't see as reflecting the absolute best of my abilities. i've definitely gotten better over the course of this year but i still have a long way to go so baby steps for now ig :')

[skyfallscotland]

Firstly, I fell in love with Remi back when she still had a home on Wattpad and have only grown to love her more.

A little background, I'm an underclassman in high school and a super competitive athlete. I've had random long-lasting "injuries" for six-ish years, which got way worse, like "why can't I get out of bed" worse this year. First it was my ankle, then both shoulders, now all of my joints at all times (except my shoulders , those pains are gone (ish)). And these pains were making it really hard to train and compete, which is pretty much my identity.

I read Fourth Wing over the summer (then immediately found Fear and Flame) and was like "huh, is this pain not normal???" So, after seeing 900000000000 doctors and getting my blood drawn way to much, I went to see another doctor, a specialist, Thursday morning.

Thus, the doctor diagnosed me with Amplified Pain Syndrome (AMPS) which is a chronic pain "disorder" that I'm going to have for the rest of my life and athletic career. The doctor gave me an entire packet to read on it and even a school note with like excuses on it. I know it's not any major chronic pain syndrome or chronic illness and I know I should feel lucky for not having something supposedly worse, but it still sucks and it's frustrating.

Anyways, I've been rereading Basgiath (Remi's Version) and kind of look up to Remi in a way now. If that makes any sense???? I feel like she's subconsciously helped me a lot and will continue to help me a lot.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is Thank You. Like a lot. I hope you always continue to write and you're awesome. ♥️❤️‍🩹

You guys just like to make me cry, I think.

I hope you don't mind me replying to this publicly, if you do, I can delete it, but I feel like maybe there's other people who might benefit from hearing it.

I was also a really active, competitive athlete growing up. I think people like us have a certain type of mindset and we tend to push our bodies past their limits so often that we don't realise where the limits of our pain are, or should be. Mentally, we're built differently and I think that's why we fall into competitive sports.

For me at least, there's this small, gritty thing inside that doesn't allow me to stop, or give up. It's what's kept me alive, but it's also perhaps what made my illness worse, at first, and I still struggle with it now because I can't stop pushing boundaries that should not be pushed. I know what it's like to have your entire identity taken away from you and have to build yourself up anew.

I don't think you can say AMPS isn't a major chronic pain syndrome or illness. Your pain is valid and if you're having it every day, then I'd call that major. It interferes with your life and that's major. It's enough that you're allowed to be upset about it and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

There will always be someone else who "has it worse" and for the rest of your life you'll deal with people saying "oh well my knee hurts too sometimes," or "oh my joints ache all the time" with literally zero understanding of what it's like for you (and sometimes, little compassion). People (including family and friends) are probably going to minimise what you're going through.

It's going to be upsetting and frustrating, but you do get used to it. Just don't let anyone convince you that it's not a big deal just because they can't see it, or because it's not going to kill you.

You don't have to feel lucky for not having something worse.

The most frustrating part about living with lifelong chronic illness for me, is staring down the barrel of a future where it doesn't go away, with no answers and no set treatment.

You're not "supposed" to say it, but on my worst days, I've felt frustrated I don't have something worse, or something acute, because at least then doctors would know what to do with that.

There's more I could say on this, but it's dark and it's heavy and I don't want to put that on you.

If you ever need to talk, I'm around. Fourth Wing has brought so many of us together and I love that. I have central sensitisation myself and I wouldn't be surprised if there were a bunch of us here with overlapping symptoms. You're not alone.

And it's not all bad! I'm not saying your life is going to suck and I don't want it to come across that way at all. I still do so much and see so many beautiful things and life can be wondrous and amazing, but if you take one thing from Remi, let it be her refusal to allow people to reduce her pain, and that even while in it, she can still kick ass and take names.

I hope you have more easy days than hard ones 💗

[afniel]

Hi there's really vague (but kinda heavy?) Third Novel stuff under the cut, so don't spoil yourself if you don't want to know anything. Because there's a liiiiittle something something in there plus some art.

Man I'm like. Writing on chapter 2(?) of I Can't Believe It's Not A Trilogy (ICBINAT...world's worst working title) and this story is gonna need such a ridiculously huge content warning for suicidal ideation, way more than the first two, and the second has more than the first, so you know this one has got it bad.

And yet this is just kinda Where X Is At Right Now at the start of it, for Reasons (that I can't say further shit about until Outcome Unpredictable is all online, lol). I have a chapter and a half of, I dunno where or when it fits, just kinda disconnected noodling, and they were hard to write in the kind of way that's warning me that I don't really know what I'm doing with a character, just kinda slapping events together without much emotional weight to any of them or any real direction.

Then I kinda had a few revelations in a row, realized I was trying to lean way too hard on X to Just Be Better Already Dammit, and he was just coming out flat because he's not better already, dammit. Reploid Grandpa is 100% a fucked-up old veteran who's barely out of the hell he came from so yeah, he makes huge strides in his mental health, but he started at the bottom of a really deep hole. That's not a quick climb! It takes real life people decades to escape that hole, and they usually didn't go through it for 80+ years without a break. He's just gonna be down there, even if he's a lot higher than he started. (IRL veteran suicide rates are absolutely dismal too, and yeah, X's mental state very much reflects this at the point that I'm writing.)

Once again all I can actually do is write down the words as they happen and trying too hard to steer it myself only makes it stop working. Am I ever going to stop writing about this old man's mental health struggles? Uhh. Well, I've tried to stop twice, if that tells you anything. I swear he does get a happy ending and keep recovering. Well, maybe not that much physically, because Protagonist Who Stays Disabled And Isn't Magically Fixed is still a primary goal, here, and the story agrees with me on that, but even given that he could stand to be more comfortable even if he's not magically fixed. I dunno why this is where it's going but I think it's just my extreme commitment to What If This Stupid Video Game Plot Was Realistic Though. It's definitely realistic now! Maybe sometimes a little too much, but honestly, that's what makes it work, I think. It would never stick the landing if I stopped short of 100% painful sincerity, even if it's hard to look at sometimes. Feeling a bit like you're being invited to see and feel vulnerabilities that maybe aren't entirely your business when you're reading fiction is the secret sauce, if you ask me.

(At this rate I'm gonna have to update the author's notes at the end of Outcome Unpredictable because I'm making myself a goddamn liar. I straight up say I have no intent of writing a third one, but here I am, evidently doing that before the author's notes even hit the internet.)

I'm not gonna explain shit past that at the moment, so just feel free to conjecture amongst yourselves at the one thing I've kinda drawn in the ICBINAT era. This is about a year and a half from OU and 2 years from FtC, for the record. It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you leave an AU running unattended for long enough, even the canon characters will eventually turn into OCs.

(Also that if my coloring style gets any more rim light I'm going to be in Sonic Adventure style coloring territory...which would fuck severely, actually.)

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 35

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Masterlist

Everything I've done, I've done for you.

But look where it led you, (Y/n). Look where it led us.

It's nine am. You are sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard and your knees drawn to your chest. You are looking at me with sharp eyes, showing no particular emotion.

“Did you hear me?” I say. “I asked if you wanted breakfast.” A pause. “You have to catch your plane tonight, so. Best to start the day, now. We still have a lot to do.”

“What about you?”

I shrug.

“My plane's tomorrow.”

“We have to be out of this place today.”

“I'll figure something out.”

“Joe.”

I look at you, really look, but I can't tell what I'm seeing. I don't know what you want from me. I don't think you know, either.

I step into the room, slowly, and sit down at the end of the bed. I'm giving you your space. Last night, I even slept on the couch.

“I've been thinking,” I say.

“You've been thinking?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Are you really afraid I'll kill you, if you break up with me?”

You shrug.

“And if you knew for certain I wouldn't, what would you do?”

You shrug again, then shake your head.

“I wouldn't break up with you.”

“Why not?” I ask. “I killed your mother. I followed you around and broke into your place. You said it yourself. You compared me to Mitch.”

“You're not Mitch.”

“I'm not going to change, (Y/n).”

You fall silent.

“Here's the thing. Last night, Nadia told me some things about your grandparents. You know what my first thought was?”

“To kill them.”

At least you know me. Maybe I kind of hate that you do.

But you need to. I need to show the worst parts of me right now, because I need you to see them.

“Yes,” I agree. “And I would have. I'd have gone over there right away, only I didn't want to leave you alone.”

I look at you, waiting for you to say something. To scream at me.

You don't. You say nothing.

I understand now, (Y/n).

Our relationship will never work if I only show you the best parts of me. I want to be perfect for you, but you are too smart to fall for it. You know there's a dark side. And so long as I keep it hidden from you, you will never know exactly what you want.

If I make you think I will ever stop protecting you, you might stay with me. You might stay with me for the person you fell for - the one you thought would never - but we'll just end up in this situation again down the line. You are too smart.

If I tell you the truth, show you the truth just today, you may leave me. But at least you'll live.

This is what I thought about last night. And also:

“I love you.”

“Okay…” you say slowly.

“Everything I do, I do to protect you.”

“I know that,” you whisper, and look down at the bedspread. “I know you think that.”

“I'm not going to stop protecting you. Not as long as I'm in your life. But I want you to have a life. So if you tell me to stop, to go away, I will.”

“I don't want that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I don't know!” you shout, putting your hands on your head.

I won't take it personally. You are allowed to have feelings.

“Last night, you told me you hate me,” I say. “But that's not fair. I'm telling you who I am. The way I see it, your options are to hate me and break up with me, or to love me and stay with me.”

“Joe–”

“You can't have it both ways. You can't hate me and stay with me. It's not fair on either of us.”

“And what if I call the police?” you ask. “What about that option?”

“You tried to kill yourself last night,” I say, worriedly. “You're not in your right mind. You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Fuck you,” you spit at me. “You think they won't look into it?”

“Sure they will,” I say. “But I don't think they'll find anything.”

“If I leave you,” you tell me. “I'll never know what you're up to. What if you trick the next girl into believing the average Joe act? What if you kill everyone around her and then her? What then?”

“I would never hurt someone I love.”

“You're sick, Joe,” you say. “You need help.”

“I don't think so.”

You shake your head.

“So what? If I stay with you, I can't ever be mad at you? I can't ever show a negative emotion because it's not fair to you? Is that what you're telling me?”

“Not at all. I'm sure we'll have plenty of fights about the stupidest things. That's what couples do. But you can't blame me for protecting you if you know about it. If you choose it.”

“I can't agree to that.”

“Then I guess we're breaking up.”

“I don’t want that, either.”

“Figure out what you want, then,” I say. “What's your perfect scenario?”

“You don't kill anyone.”

“I don't just kill anyone. I only kill when I need to.”

“You're deranged,” you say. There is a disbelieving look on your face. “And you think I'll just go along with that?”

“I'll make you a promise,” I say seriously. “Not your grandparents. Not your family. Not so long as you go back to New York with me and stay there, out of their reach.

You laugh, unhappily.

“Well, fuck me, then! Guess I found the perfect man! You're going to kill people, but not my family! Guess that makes it all okay!”

“If you thought it was okay,” I say. “I would be very worried.”

“But you're not worried about yourself?”

“No.”

You lean your head back, staring at the ceiling, then close your eyes.

“If I break up with you,” you say. “I will never forgive myself. But what you're asking me… The way you want me to stay with you…” You shake your head. “There's no right answer here.”

“Nothing in life is exactly right,” I say. “There's just what you want, and what you don't. And I think you know what you want. I think you're just afraid to admit it.”

You look at me.

“You know what I want?” you say. “I want to stay in love with you. I want to stay so in love with you I can't think straight. I want to have sex every day and get married in a couple of years and have some kids who look like us because I'm selfish as fuck and you make me really happy, most of the time.” You take a breath. “But when I open a newspaper and see an obituary, I don't want to wonder if you had anything to do with it.”

“Then don't,” I say. “Don't wonder. Just ask me.”

“Just ask you?”

“Or better yet, I'll just tell you. No secrets.”

“No secrets,” you say. “Just like that? You have a billion secrets, Joe.”

“Not really. Not anymore.”

You stare at me.

[feroluce]

I've decided Ingo and Irida can bang once, under sex pollen circumstances, because it would be hilarious.

My ideal is that it's actually only Ingo who gets sex pollened, so poor Ingo is kind of a hot mess and meanwhile Irida is totally fine and normal and just trying to take care of her Warden. Hisui has different values and views than Unova, and Irida just. She does not care. She doesn’t see what the big deal is. She thinks Ingo is the weird one. And I think Ingo would be appalled by his own behavior later and be embarrassed about it and he's cute and funny when he's suffering through his own self-imposed Catholic Guilt akldjlafsjdlka

Ingo has some weird reaction to a pokemon attack or whatever on his way to the main settlement, so he isolates himself in an empty hut reserved for clan members from outside of the icelands. Irida eventually goes to check on him, because this is extremely unusual behavior. Ingo is typically pretty social, and as clan leader, he always goes to her to announce his arrival first thing.

Irida finds him basically in a rut, Ingo has shoved himself into a corner of the bed up against the wall and bundled up under all the blankets, all she sees at first are two silver cat eyes staring out at her. He feels weird, like he's burning up with a fever, and he can't sit still, he keeps shifting around uncomfortably. Irida asks what's up with him and Ingo takes way too long to answer, he keeps trailing off like he can barely think and just staring at her.

Irida finally declares that she knows what's wrong with him, she's seen this before! And if they leave this alone, it'll get way way worse before it gets better, but luckily Irida knows what to do for it! Ingo sags forward with relief because oh, thank goodness, he feels wretched, like the worst flu and just miserably uncomfortable, it's already been a couple hours and he can't take much more of this.

And then he sits back up and nearly keels right over again because WHY ARE YOU STRIPPING?!?!?

Irida: ??? You've seen me bare before, we've been in the hot springs together more than once?

Ingo: BUT THIS ISN'T THE HOT SPRINGS. ///

(Ingo says this facing the wall with his hand over his eyes because he turned around so fast it made him dizzy skzjskskx)

Ingo is very determinedly staring at a spot on the wall and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Irida just casually crawls up onto the bed and sits behind him. Irida tells him he can suffer through it if he really wants to, of course. She doesn't really get why he would, but she's seen people make that decision before. The clan will watch over him until it passes. Ingo asks how long it will last, because he already plans on doing so.

Irida: Days.

Ingo: ...

Irida: Several days, sometimes.

Ingo: ......

Irida: The longest recorded was maybe almost a fortnight?

Ingo: ............

It's only been hours and Ingo is already feeling desperate, and he's going to be like this for days? Possibly over a week? And Irida mentioned it would get worse? Ugh, just kill him.

But then Irida presses up against his back and even through all his clothes and the blankets, Ingo can feel her body and it's weirdly relieving for his current condition, like a heat pack on a sore muscle. Irida tells him he can do that, OR he can just let her help him. No one's ever died of this or anything, but it can get dangerous. Irida wants to help! Ingo is one of hers now. And she doesn't want to risk the life of one of her people.

Ingo doesn't really say anything, but he uncurls a little bit and stops gripping the blankets around him quite so tight, which she takes as a good sign! He has his knees drawn up to his chest, so she has to straddle his feet and lower legs a bit to make it work, but Irida manages to wedge herself between Ingo and the wall so she can at least get him to look at her and give her a straight answer. Ingo tries to start speaking a couple times, but he can't quite seem to string words together, he trails off just like earlier, staring at her like how Irida has seen people stare at the hot springs after being half frozen in the wastes of the icelands.

Irida nods and tells him physical touch is supposed to help, takes the hand that Ingo hadn't even realized he'd reached out, and sets it on her shoulder. She manages to get him to give her his other one, too, and sets it on her waist, and Ingo sighs. It really does help. It's not even that it feels good, it's just that he feels less bad.

Irida presses in closer, happily and proudly rambling poetic about how it must be a blessing of Almighty Sinnoh, that the cure for something so terrible is simply for two bodies to share the same space together so closely they interlock, isn't it nice?

The next morning, Ingo wakes up all groggy, and just kinda lays there blinking at the ceiling for several minutes until he realizes he hears someone else in the hut with him. So he rolls over and almost immediately has a fucking heart attack because there's Irida, still naked, kneeling in front of the fire and poking at with a stick trying to get it going again.

Ingo finally croaks out a quiet little please help me and Irida pats his arm and tells him of course she will. He's her Warden, he can lean on her when he needs to. 💕

She has bruises! And handprints! And oh god, did he seriously leave those bite marks on her?! NOOOOOO-

He behaved as though a depraved animal! A beast!! He shouldn't even be allowed near people anymore!!

Ingo is facing the corner, moping and red-faced and dealing with his Catholic Guilt, and meanwhile Irida is trying to decide what she wants for breakfast VSKDKXJKSKXKX

===========================

(About three weeks later, just when he's almost able to look her in the eye again, Ingo goes to Irida to report on some happening in the highlands. Irida pats him and tells him good boy. Ingo lights up and all but purrs for a second before his brain catches up like WAIT WHAT, NO.

Irida: Oh. Is that not ok? You liked being called that that one time.

Ingo, steaming red face in his hands: MY LADY, PLEASE.)

((Gaeric is unfortunately within earshot when this happens, and he laughs so hard he wheezes, and then when he and Irida depart, he slaps Ingo on the back so hard he stands straight for a few minutes afterwards ndodjwkskmdkx))

[nerves-nebula]

theres something to be said about the fact that i can't seem to process my emotions or find meaning in life outside of stories.

i need a fictional counterpart, a fictional role to align myself with. a Theme of the Story to follow (never give up, you can't do this alone, that kind of stuff) no amount of sitting and thinking and philosophy will change my outlook, but a new archetype? a new character, their devotion, their worldview? I could do that.

like no amount of rational thinking helped me with this recent thing that happened to me, and ive been hurting about it for months at this point, but i think im just starting to get over it. and that's because of a character I'm writing, who's emotional arc is mirroring mine. And I just adjusted my view of it and huh, i wouldn't mind that outcome. it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

anyway i just read judas by jeff loveness and it was beautifully drawn, and i appreciated the story too, so maybe thats why i wanna change my name to judas lmao. i dont really want to tell people IRL though, cuz they wouldnt get it. and itd be a whole thing.

judas is basically the only person from the bible i've ever given a shit about.

(when i was younger i remember wondering why judas couldn't go to heaven, if his betrayal was necessary for jesus to die, and if he was so upset about it that he didnt even spend the money and then KILLED himself. but idk i dont think the people in the church actually gave a shit. they never tried to make it make sense to me. so judas is just like, this little guy i've squirrel away now)

[barry-j-blupjeans]

@taznovembercelebration - Laughing / Crying

Lucretia has done a lot of things she regretted in her life. She regretted that the last thing she said to her parents was a half-hearted goodbye, even if they were kind of shitty. She regretted ever learning she was allergic to bananas because the itchy mouth feeling was bad, but the taste was so good. You couldn't exactly get your hands on a banana when the six only other people that are a constant in your life through all of existence now know you're allergic to them. She regretted many things from cycle sixty-four- being too trusting, too naive, not knowing how to repair the ship engines in the way that Barry or Davenport did, making the same mistakes over and over again. She regretted wishing Lup good night the evening before she went missing, she regretted that Magnus walked in on The Redaction.

And there it was. Her biggest and most obvious regret, perhaps, was The Redaction itself. She doesn't regret it in the way she expected to regret it. She had expected to wish she had never done it in the first place, to wish that she could take it all back, that this was the worst mistake of her life. But time marched on in spite of her decision and nowadays, Lucretia mostly regretted that it was taking so long.

In complete and utter honesty, though? Lucretia's absolute worst regret was whatever choices had led her to this moment. At this point, she doesn't know how she got here, and she was too afraid to ask.

"So," Magnus said, using his presentation pointer- one of the big pink sticks with a cartoonish gloved hand at the end, pointing one finger- to gesture to the giant pad of paper he had dragged in here sometime earlier. On the paper, he had drawn an anime-esque dog, with eyes much too detailed to be natural. Above the nightmare dog were large letters, which spelled out, "-This is why dogs should be allowed on the moon."

"Magnus," Lucretia said, exhaustedly. "I really don't have time-"

"Point number one," Magnus said. He flipped the cover paper up to reveal a second drawing of a dog looking down over the edge of the moon base, but politely staying where it wouldn't, in the paper's words, launch itself directly into the ground. "Dogs can learn. A big problem I've noticed with your rule, Madam Director, is that you think dogs will just run off the edge of the moon. And I see where you're coming from! If you have only been around untrained dogs, then that is a very valid concern. Fortunately for us, I'm proficient in animal handling and can train any dog, no problem. Magnus "The Dog Whisperer" Burnsides is what they called me in high school."

"I'm sure they didn't," Lucretia said. She was slowly sinking into her desk chair. She was going to have to be late for her meeting with HR today. Again. Actually, maybe she should be grateful for this, because at least she would have an excuse this time.

"But Magnus! I hear you say-"

"I did not even come close to saying that."

"What if you can't train the dog? What if it's just too wild and untamable, like your gorgeous and luscious hair?" Magnus ran a hand through said gorgeous and luscious hair, which was sticking straight up in the back. She wasn't actually sure if Magnus had slept at all last night. "Well, if that impossible scenario arrives, then I have a second solution for you."

He flipped the page again. This one just had the word "FENCE" written on it and underlined three times.

"Fence," Magnus said.

"A fence," Lucretia said dryly. "Wow, Magnus, why didn't I think of that?"

"It took me a while to come up with, don't worry," Magnus said. "But a fence will solve all the problems I can't. Make it high enough to be sure that the dogs won't jump over it and bam! Everything is fine! But Magnus, where can I get a fence that long without revealing that I run a secret organization on the moon?"

"I literally didn't even open my mouth this time."

"Good question," Magnus said. "And the answer you're looking for is right in front of you." He flipped the paper up again. This time, it was just a drawing of his own face, with the same, insanely detailed anime eyes. Lucretia wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. Instead, she just buried her face in her hands and tried not to feel anything, at all.

"For this cause, I will lower my commission rate to fifty percent-" and that's what broke Lucretia. She sunk further into her chair, wheezing. Even she didn't know if she was laughing or crying. It was just kind of… all of her emotions, all at once, which resulted in her sounding like a dying horse. "-and I'll even throw in the sweet, sweet deal of the large project bundle. In total, this will only cost you about six thousand gold."

"Mag- Magnus," Lucretia said, reduced to tears by whatever the hell she was feeling. Amusement? Stress? Regret was definitely, definitely in that mix somewhere. "I- I have a meeting to go to-"

"I'll be quick, then!" Magnus said, flipping to the next paper. Lucretia didn't even bother to look up. "You may be asking yourself now, but what if we get a really big dog and it can't be trained and it can jump over fences? Well, may I introduce to you: The Dog Parachute."

Gods, Lucretia knew she took more than half his memories, but she doesn't know why she was hoping that would make him any less stupid.

[mayaswiterblog]

Me Inside, Me Outside (Homework)

This homework poem was written on 11 April 2019, translated into English on 18 April 2019 and then posted on Wattpad.

Translated Version

The demon out there It spits, it torments The Eyes glow With blood-red flow Sometimes yellow Or even another time With a Green shine

Demonic Moon Ignites Again When not shining It shines For me Warmth or Cold Whatever you feel But the Sun Blinds ye all Just like a magician Mirrors, illusions Do you see it That norm' lie?

They murmur They ponder They build Their own world Their own community You're alone You're odd Friends, treasures Under your wings The blood streams The Sun burns the feathers But the smile never fades Because faith is great When doing it for the greater good

And when others laugh with joy It recharges Anybody's welcome To my magic cave But only the backdoor Is open for a few more And only one life form Is my resource My only treasure

The World is sometimes Very strange Good or Bad An accident can be A good sign Even when it feels bad The good will always find it And change the fate Twisting it so tightly That it hurts But giggle still

In the vast SeaSky There's plenty of star-fish They gleam They shine Big & Small In the depth of that Ocean Another door in motion To another World Through the Roman corridor An enormous library can be found It's big, alright Full of rough drafts Written and drawn About anything and everything Nobody would read them anyway Unless you recommend them Or maybe find them yourself

But even the Water is not Always Peaceful There are all kinds of fish Could be a shark Or even an octopus A Pacific whale A Cute catfish

Who would even Love a monster? Either a stupid hero Or a brave knight

Say one thing Hear another The body's ugly The mind is great Think beyond everything See something else Understand very much But hard to explain A hand and a soul A Spirit of the Art Knowledge & sweet biscuits Ate way too much Without drinking water The thirst pressures The Self-esteem drops

But the smile still stays still 'Cause mum says "Always tolerate the pain It will go away again" "Panicking is the worst Always do your best" "Stay strong, unbend And never trust anyone To the very end."

No one ever cared Beside mum alone Friends came Then left The new came along But only a couple Stayed as life companions

Own people Like Romeo and Juliet Always claim You're not a person You're selfless Altruism reincarnate Who are you? I'm a woman, I'm a small girl Nobody will pay Attention Nobody understands They're gonna get Upset anyway I'm soulless I'm a Soviet robot I always float in the air

Until I found a new cave On the top of another mountain A new folk, a new song I felt the life As if I was a child again Silent like a black cat I observed and studied But I spoke and meowed Like a white kitty cat

The more you stay The easier is to see How tough I am Even if not acknowledge it myself They call for me As if I was A lost poor puss

Now that the sweet ring changes Tune so spiritually deep And so quivering It's scary Ghostly alarming The invisible thundercloud Always floating above the head But I wasn't left alone after all I've got a flower behind my ear Hugs and kisses A Friendship Love Even my laughter echoed at last With such ease, free and loud

And once again I found something insane Like a lucky accident Above the gleaming snow Under the freezing stars That creature right there So bright, so warm Couldn't even believe But it doesn't bother him To the slightest The heart beats, the heart freezes "You're beautiful, you're pretty" And he always says No matter how many times I show him my sharp teeth "You're cute, I wanna love you"

Finally, I am crying The icy walls melt The love is felt I feel myself As a beautiful woman And not anymore As a small room girl I'm able to scream, I'm able to sneer I can neigh now, I can chirp now I purr more, I wind like a snake I'm being myself I found my own tone of voice My heart is strong Because I'm honest with myself I'm humane now And it shows.

ORIGINAL SCRIPT:

Minä sisälta, Minä ulkoa

Demoni siellä Se sylkii, se räkisee Silmät kiiltävät Veren-punaisina Joskus keltaisine, Tai jopa Vihreinä

Demoni Kuu Syttyihän Taas Kun ei pasta Paistaa Se mulla Lämpö tai Kylmyys Mitä vaan tunnet Mutta aurinkohan Sokeuttaa Kuin taikuri Peilit, illusiot Näetkö sen Se normi valhetta?

He supinavat He ajattelevat He rakentavat Oman maailmansa Oman seuransa Olet yksin Olet outo Kaverit, aarteet Siipiesi alla Veri valuu Aurinko polttaa höyheniä Mutta hymyilee aina Koska uskomus on suuri Että muille tekee hyvää

Ja toiset nauravat ilotse Se tuo energiaa Omalle taika luolalle Tervetuloa kuka tahansa Mutta vain takaovi On avoin pari hahmoille Ja vain yksi eliö On voimavarani Ainoa aarteni

Maailma on joskus Tosi ihme Hyvä tai paha Vahinko voi olla Hyvä merkki Vaikka tuntuu pahaa Hyvää löytää sen kyllä Ja muuttaa sen kohtalon Vääntääksen niin kireeksi Että sattuu Mutta nauraa silti

Meritaivaalla on Plajon tähtikaloja Ne kiiltää Ne loistaa Suuria & pieniä Ton meritaivaan syvyydessä Löytyy toinen ovi Toiseen maailmaan Roomalaisen käytävän kautta Löytyy erinnomainen kirjasto Onhan se suuri Täynnä luonnoksia Kirjoitettu ja piiretty Mistä vaan tahansa Kukaanhan ei lue niitä Kunnes suosittelet Tai ehkä löydät itse

Mutta Vesikin ei ole Aina rauhallinen Kaloja on monenlaisia Voi olla hai Tai vaikkapa mustekkala Tyyni valas Söpö merikissa

Kukahan hirviötä Tykkää? Joko typerä sankari Tai rohkea ritari

Puhuu yhtä Kuuluu toista Ruumis ruma Mieli valtava Ajattelee yli kaiken Näkee muuta Ymmärtää todella paljon Mutta hankalaa selittää Käsi ja sielu Taiteen henki Tiede & makeat keksit Syönnyt liian liikaa Vesiä juomatta Jano painaa Itsetunto putoaa

Mutta hymy pysyy Koska äiti sanoo "Kestä kivun aina Sehän lähtee pois" "Paniikki on pahinta Tee parhaasi mukaan" "Pysy vahvana Ja älä luota ketään Luppuun asti."

Kukaan ei välittänyt Paitsi äiti yksin Kaverit tulivat Lähtivät Ja uudet tulivat taas Vain pari kappaletta Elämäntovereita

Omathan ihmiset Kuin Romea ja Julia Aina väittävät Et ole henkilö Olet epäitsekäs Altruismin reinkarnaatio Kuka olet? Olen nainen, Olen pieni tyttö. Kukaan ei ota huomioon Kukaan ei ymmärrä Suuttuvanthan ne silti Olen sieluton Olen Neuvostoliiton robotti Leijun ilmassa aina

Kunnes löysin uuden luolan Toisen vuoren huipulla Uusi kansa, uusi laulu Tunsin elämän Kuin lapsena olisin Hiljaa kuin musta kissa Katsoin ja tutkinut Mutta puhuin ja maukuin Kuin valkoinen kissumirri

Mutta mitä kauemmin viettelee Sitä helpommin näkee Kuinka kova olen Vaikka sitä itse ei tunnustaa He kutsuvat minua Ihan kuin olisin Eksynyt kisu parka

Nyt se suloinen kilinä muuttuu Sävel niin henkisen syvä Ja värisevä Se pelottaa Haamullisesti hälyttää Näkymätön ukkonen Aina kelluu pään päällä Mutta ei yksin jäännytkään Sain kukan korvan taakse Sylit ja pusut Ystävällistä rakkautta Naurunikin vihdoin kaikui Helpotusti äänen vapaasti

Ja kerrankin löytyi jotain järjetöntä Kuin onnen vahinko Kiiltävän lumen päältä Kylmien tähtien alta Se olento sieltä Niin kirkas, niin lämpeä Ei uskoisi kaan Mutta ei häntä kiinnostaa Sydän sykkii, sydän pysähtyy "Olet kaunis, olet ihana" Ja aina hän sanoo Vaikka kuinka paljon Teräviä hampaitani näyttäisi "Olet söpö, haluan raksataa sinua"

Vihdoin itkettää Jäiset seinät sulavat Rakkautta tuntuu Tunnen itsensä Ihanaksi naiseksi Eikä enään Pienekis huone tytöksi Pystyn huutaa, pystyn ivata Voin nyt hirnua, voin nyt visertää Kehrään enemmän, mutkittelen kuin käärme Olen oma itsensä Löysin oman äänen sävynsä Sydämeni on vahva Koska olen rehellinen itseäni kohtaan Olen nyt inhimillinen Ja sen huomaa.

[wxndswept]

Don't you miss your sister, Lyza? Don’t you ever think about Kris—the one who has sacrificed everything for you? She was your older sister, your protector, the one who carried you through your weakest moments, and what did you give her in return? Silence. Indifference. You stood by while she bled for you, while she shouldered your mistakes. How do you live with yourself knowing that the only thing you've ever given her is heartache? You let her down in the worst possible ways, and even now, when you should be crawling at her feet, begging for forgiveness, you just stand there, still selfish, still oblivious.

You’re a disappointment, Lyza. You always have been. Everywhere you go, you bring nothing but destruction. You ruin lives, tear people apart as if their suffering means nothing to you. Does it ever cross your mind what you've done? How many souls have shattered because of your recklessness? Yuuki—did you forget about him too? The one who tried to reach out to you, to help you, and what did you do? You crushed him, just like you crush everything in your path. How much pain do you have to cause before you feel anything, before you realize that this chaos is your legacy?

It’s always about you, isn’t it? No matter the cost, no matter who suffers, as long as you're free to chase whatever hollow dream you’re clinging to. But don’t you dare pretend it’s not your fault, Lyza. Don’t you dare act like you’re not the source of all this misery. Everyone who tries to love you ends up broken. Kris, Yuuki—they were just the first. Who’s next? How many more lives will you destroy before you decide it's enough? Or are you still too blind to see the trail of wreckage behind you?

There’s a darkness in you, Lyza. One that poisons everything it touches. And you, you refuse to acknowledge it, refuse to confront it. That’s why you'll always be alone. You’ve lost Kris, and you’ve lost Yuuki, and you’ll keep losing everyone who tries to care about you because that’s who you are. You’re the disaster, the storm that leaves nothing but ruin in its wake. And when you’re finally standing in the ashes of all that you’ve destroyed, maybe—just maybe—you’ll realize it’s always been your fault. But by then, it’ll be too late.

"What, you think this is some big gotcha moment? Try again, ass. My sister didn't sacrifice shit for me. It was all 'Lyza, let's go explore! Lyza, follow me! Lyza, let's go to Petrichor! Stand over there, Lyza! Don't be a baby, Lyza!' I know she regrets it, I know it tears her up inside every day, and I know she's now at the Akademiya to find me, not because of her passion for relics and artifacts. But I am not losing any sleep because of what she did and didn't do."

"You think she suffered?! You think I should be crawling at her feet for forgiveness?! FUCK that! She should be begging me for forgiveness!! Kris wasn't transported against her will! Kris didn't have needles stuck in her over and over for years! Kris wasn't subject to the Abyss, the Heavely Principles, and who knows what else! Kris wasn't turned into a living weapon for a madman who just fucked around to find out! I'm the victim here, I'm the one who suffered!"

"I wasn't born with this darkness, I had it pumped inside me for ten goddamn years! I think I deserve to be a little bitter and angry for the shit I went through! I was nothing but a tool for that fuckwit, a weapon to sic on those they didn't like or to test some new toy they were playing with, all in their pursuit of the end, and their perfect body! I was sent to Yuuki, I didn't choose her! I didn't create the explosion that blew us to the Express, I've had no freedom in my life! I may have made a lot of mistakes in their name, but I am not the source of anyone's misery, especially for the people currently in my life! I don't need a big dramatic showdown or a drawn-out conversation to know that! I felt that in the very core of my being!"

"...You are right about one thing, though. I did lose Kris, and my father. I'm here in an alternate dimension with a new path and people a part of me wants to call family, while they're at home, on my Teyvat with no knowledge of what happened to me. I'm sure it tears Kris up inside, and even though I hate her, I still want nothing more than to go home and let them know I'm okay. And I almost lost Yuuki too. She was the first person to treat me so well, and I constantly pushed her away. To the point where I did actually try to talk to her, she wasn't listening because she was too wrapped up in her own thing. That darkness in me, I ignored it for too long, and was consumed by it. But thanks to Yuuki, I was given a literal second chance. I don't plan on throwing it away, I intend to use it to live up to the example my friends are setting in our Trailblaze, to right the wrongs I did do. And I intend to help Yuuki with everything she's going through, I can see it all clearly now, how much she pushes herself for reasons she doesn't understand. I'll help her so she can sleep soundly again, and maybe at the end of our journey, I can see my family again."

"Hehe... ahahaha! You know, fuck you, but thanks for giving me a chance to vent all this out, asshole!"