#part two up in a week??? I hope???

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

The Hope in the Fault Lines, part 1

Summary: after your sister and her husband are tragically killed, you become the guardian of their daughter, your niece. As you try to pick up the pieces of your life, you become aware that you need help. Desperately. So you hire a nanny. Enter Mingyu, an ex-agent-turned-childcare-professional with a past of his own.

Genre: fluff, heavy themes, (light) smut in later parts (minors DNI)

Warnings: (applies to most of the parts) descriptions of grief, mental illness, disordered eating, instant parenthood, loss of sibling, vehicle-related death, police investigation, child custody court, parental abuse

Word count for pt 1: 4.3k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Why aren’t I numb yet? you think to yourself.

Because really, you should be there by now. Hell, you’d even planned to be there by now so you could go back to work. But here you are — standing in your seven-month-old niece’s bedroom, crying along with her, the agony in your chest building like water that slowly heightens to a boil, its persistent, grief-tinged bubbles roiling in time with every pointless beat of your absolutely shattered heart.

You stroke the back of your niece Sara’s head and made soothing noises as well as you could around your own tears. Surely, at some point, she had to stop crying, right? Then maybe you could get back to sleep, which so far has been the only semi-consistent way to forget the grim truth of your reality.

Which was that your sister, Jeri — the proper mother for this fussing thing in your arms — and her husband, Jisung, were dead. That was why you were here, with a child who was missing the same person you were missing but had much less of a vocabulary to express it, so she just cried and cried and cried until you realized she was voicing your own internal monologue. Both of you were hoping that she’d walk in any minute and hold you and make the world stop its incessant spinning for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry you only have me. I’m sorry that’s the best I can give you.” You stifle a sob. “I’m sorry that she’s gone. I miss her too.”

Eventually, Sara’s wails quieted, and she slumped against your shoulder, exhausted. You collapsed into the chair in the nursery, exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately, holding Sara in your arms.

You were awakened by the sound of the door opening. Had you forgotten to lock it? You suddenly panic, gently placing Sara’s still-sleeping form into her crib before tiptoeing into the hallway, colliding with your best friend, Bora.

“Did I not lock the door?” you blurt in shock.

She looks you up and down. “No, you did,” she reassures, her worried look intensifying. “I’ve had a key for five years.”

You deflate in relief. “Right,” you say aimlessly, looking at her. “Okay. Um…coffee?”

“Girl, I should be making you coffee,” Bora said. She put a hand to your forehead. “You’re ill, sweetheart.”

You blink at her. “I am?”

“Undoubtedly,” she confirms, leading you back to your bedroom. “Don’t worry about Sara. I’ll be here all day, so you just rest, okay?” She nearly pushes you onto your bed, and pulls a blanket off the floor to tuck around you.

You take stock of yourself. Head aching -- that wasn’t new. Eyes dry and puffy -- same as always. No, the only difference you could tell from last night is a hollow, cavernous emptiness in your chest where the clawing agony used to sit. Right on cue, the numbness has begun to engulf you.

You pass the day in a haze, only briefly aware of the activities of Sara, who at seven months old is only fussy around strangers when it gets dark, and your friend. You simply lay there in bed, not sleeping despite your tiredness, not even able to muster up the energy to reach for the food Bora brings you at midday. In fact, the sun is setting before you’re able to become conscious, sitting up and rubbing at your stinging eyes as Bora comes in to check on you.

“What about Morrie and Cal?” you ask her, referencing Bora’s own daughter Morna and her husband Calvin. “Did you really leave them all day?”

Bora nodded. “Yeah, Cal’s got it. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.” She brushes your hair out of your face in a motherly way. “You need help here.”

“I’m not getting married anytime soon, Bo,” you say dryly.

“I’m not talking about marriage,” she says. “I’m talking about a nanny.”

You bite your lip. “Are you saying I’m bad at motherhood?” you ask, and if you could sound hurt through all the nothingness you feel, you’re sure you would.

“No,” Bora says gently. “I’m saying you didn’t bargain for motherhood on top of dealing with your grief, and you still have a whole life ahead of you that needs your attention, outside of this apartment. You have a job you love that you really need to get back to -- for you, sweetheart, not for the company, because I know that the work you do makes you happy. You need more time like that, more time for you. I know there’s a big difference in the circumstances, but when I became a mother, having Cal as a partner made it really easy for me to do things outside of the house that gave me purpose. It really helped me get a handle on myself outside of motherhood so that I could maintain a healthy relationship with Morrie without resenting her or losing myself. And honestly, you need that. We all do. And since marriage isn’t the move right now, and you have the means, a nanny might be the best possible thing for you.”

You nod slowly. “So they’d just come watch Sara while I’m at work?”

She nods. “They can be here as much or as little as you want.”

“Okay. How do I make sure they’re not a child snatcher or a pervert?”

Bora snorts. “Well, I’d recommend interviewing them so that your spidey-senses can alert you to any potential creeps,” she advises.

“I’m tired just thinking about that,” you groan. The phone begins to ring, and you check the ID — it’s your head editor, Cory.

You answer. “Hey,” you say, trying not to sound as dead inside as you are. “What’s up?”

“How are you doing?” he asks, his tone hesitant. This was one of the worst parts of tragedy, you thought to yourself: the awkwardness. Suddenly there was no comfort anywhere. Nobody knew what to say to you, or how to address the event, so everyone skated around it and you in a cautious dance of embarrassment and pity. Part of you wishes someone would just acknowledge it -- “so, your sister is dead,” and then move on.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I should be back to work...soon. I just need to find a nanny for my niece.”

“Oh, that’s...that’s good,” Cory says, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t actually calling about that, I was actually just...worried about you.”

You sigh. “Everybody is, Cory. But I’ll pull through this. I always do.”

“I know,” he says, “and I trust that you will. I just...wanted you to know that we’re -- that I’m thinking of you.”

You try to feel curious about his choice of words, but can’t muster the energy to care that much. “Thanks, Cory,” you say. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Another lie, but the last one you feel compelled to tell him. “Bye.”

Bora is looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “He seems friendly,” she says, and through the haze that seems to coat your brain you know she’s making an implication.

This is yet another thing you don’t have the energy to address right now, so you don’t. “So, I need to interview nannies.”

“Well, you could also have your assistant do it,” Bora offers. “She’d lay on train tracks for you. I’m sure she’d do a good job.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you think of making Emily, your eager assistant, vet nannies for Sara. She was young and enthusiastic and proactive, and she’d do a great job. “I think that’s a good idea,” you say. “Thanks, Bora. I know I haven’t been -- well, I know you have better things to do than worry about me, and I’m s--”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought,” she says, holding her manicured hand up to silence you. “You have people around you who care about and love you. Me included. This is the time where you need to lean on those people. And we all want that.”

“Thank you,” you say again.

“Eat,” she says sternly. “I need to get home, but I refuse to leave Sara with you until you’ve got food in your body.”

You wrinkle your nose at the idea of putting something in your mouth and chewing, but you realize that Bora’s made you some kind of thick, creamy soup that requires nothing but small sips. It’s easy to eat, and before you know it, despite not really tasting it as it passed through your lips, you’ve finished the bowl. Bora nods approvingly, leaning in and kissing your forehead before standing up to leave. “I love you, sweetheart,” she says. “Call me in the morning, okay?”

And with that, she leaves.

***

Six days later, you’re somewhere that you never expected to be at this point -- at dinner with your friend Gwen and her husband, Chan. Bora had showed up, instructed you to get ready, and taken Sara home with her as the couple had showed up at your front door. “You need a night out,” she insisted as you halfheartedly protested.

You had taken her advice and asked Emily to start interviewing nannies, but so far, her search for someone who could be there during your required time period and had the right background checks and qualifications had come up with very few results. This was a bit disheartening, but you hadn’t really given up yet, hoping someone would pull through for you. If you believed in God at this point, you’d probably pray for it.

These are the thoughts that are consuming you at dinner with your friends, when you’re supposed to be listening to them talk. They, gratefully, are a comforting pair, who make a point not to look at you with the customary pity. Instead, they ask about work and Sara and even about your thoughts on how the funeral had gone, which is kind of a relief -- none of that timid skirting around the big, ugly elephant in the room. Maybe this openness they’ve pulled out of you is the reason you feel you can speak to them about your current issue. “Actually, I’m trying to get back to work,” you say. “Those bills aren’t going to pay themselves. The only issue is, I need to find a nanny for Sara, but my assistant has been having trouble finding someone who fits the bill,” you explain, picking at the food in front of you.

To your surprise, Chan’s eyes light up. “I might know a guy. He used to work with me, and he just moved back here after awhile.”

You stare at him. “Chan, aren’t you a federal officer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Why would a federal agent want to work as my nanny?” you ask him.

“Former federal agent,” he corrects you. “Turned nanny.”

“You know someone who quit being a secret agent to become a child-care worker?” you say in disbelief.

Gwen nods. “Actually, he’s really good. The family he was just with fell on some hard times, which is why he’s back now, but I think he might be looking for a new gig.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “You got the contact information for this guy?” you ask Chan.

“Yeah. His name’s Mingyu. I’ll forward the info on to Emily.”

“Thanks,” you say. “Really, Chan.” You allow yourself to hope for a moment, which provides just the right amount of energy to finish dinner and make your way back home. Once you’re inside your wreck of an apartment, which hasn’t been really cleaned since the accident, you lean heavily against the door, releasing a big breath.

You head to Sara’s room before realizing she’s still at Bora’s house. You text her that you’re home, and before you know it, Bora is handing a sleeping Sara back into your arms.

“She was really good today,” Bora whispers. “How was dinner?”

“It was...okay,” you say, and for the first time, you’re honest. For some reason, you feel like this Mingyu person is the one who’s going to stick, and that leaves you with a modicum of relief. A change is coming, and this one feels like it’s bound to be better than whatever you’re trying to do now. Bora leaves, and you go to the nursery -- the one room that’s intact and clean -- and sink into the rocking chair with Sara.

“Sometime soon, we’re going to have someone to help us out, Sara,” you promise. “I know this isn’t the life your parents probably imagined for you, but I’m going to try and give you something close to what they wanted you to have. I mean that.”

Slowly, you pull her off your shoulder to look at her cherubic little face -- at the black curls that surround her face, her long eyelashes fluttering in sleep. She’s a darling baby, but what you notice is something that penetrates through the cloud of numbness: she’s smiling, her little dimples so reminiscent of --

“Jeri,” you breathe, and a rush of warmth hits you right in your chest for a moment before it’s once again extinguished by your grief, like a flaming arrow shot into a dark, black lake. You suppose, as you hold her close to you once again, that in a way, Sara has immortalized your sister.

You fall asleep holding Sara, who for the first time since she became yours sleeps through the night.

***

You’re standing in your sweatpants, braless, your hair thrown haphazardly on top of your head, feeding Sarah some baby food as she babbles happily in her high chair, when the doorbell rings. You check your watch in disbelief -- it’s seven in the morning, which is the time you had asked Mingyu to show up for his first day of work. You’d never met him in person, although you had talked to him on the phone, and you’d wanted to make a good first impression. But then Sara had had a blowout, and you’d had to change your own sheets because she’d slept in your bed with you, and then you’d had to bathe her (it was that bad), and you were finally getting to feed Sara. You hadn’t even eaten yet, and you’d planned to be fully ready and put together by the time he arrived.

But there was no postponing this -- you couldn’t just let him rot on your porch. So you head for the door, praying Sara won’t throw the spoon on the floor as she has been wont to do recently, and look through the peephole. When you see him, the only thing you can do is whisper “shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.”

Because how could Emily not have told you that the man was beautiful?

And he isn’t beautiful in like, your everyday way either. The man on your porch is tall, probably dwarfing you by both head and shoulders, with a broad chest that pulled at the simple black tee he wears and arms that the pre-accident you would have swooned over. His hair is cropped short like a fed, and he is dressed practically, and yet, he was a god. There was no other way around it. You look down at yourself -- stained t-shirt, sweats with holes in embarrassing places, hair in disarray -- and shrug. There’s nothing you can do but pull the door open. “Hi,” you say. “Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and he doesn’t seem to register your haggard appearance, just smiles. “I’m guessing you’re --”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Um, please come in.”

He does, carefully removing his tennis shoes and stepping into the entryway. “Sara’s in the kitchen. Probably throwing stuff.”

He chuckles. “She’s seven months?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“They do that,” he says conspiratorially.

It has taken you very little time to realize you might be in trouble. Mingyu’s smile is open and warm, his eyes full of life. He is nothing like the gruff, stern former agent that you were picturing in your head. You watch him crouch to greet Sara, whose face lights up at his friendly wave. “Hi, Sara,” he says, brushing a bit of blended squash off her nose. “You’re a cutie, that’s for sure.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess,” you can’t help but say. “It’s...it’s been insane.”

He looks up at you. “I get it. Your assistant kind of explained the situation. How are you holding up?” he asks.

You scratch the back of your head. “Well, Sara’s still alive, and that’s pretty much the extent of my current goals, so I guess we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

He nods sympathetically. “Honestly, great job. Becoming an instant parent can’t be easy.”

“I actually need to be at work at 8:30,” you suddenly realize. “Can I show you around? I’ll have to dash right afterward.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, following you down the hall.

“This is the guest room,” you say. “It hasn’t been touched for a minute, but this is where you’ll sleep if we ever need you to stay overnight. I occasionally have business trips.” You lead him further down the hall and up the short staircase, opening the door to the nursery. “Right there is the bathroom. This is Sara’s room, so when she goes down for naps, this is where you can put her.”

You look at him, and his face is thoughtful as you point down the hall. “Door at the end is my bedroom,” you say, remembering what an absolute disaster it is. A blush rises in your cheek. “And please,” you say, going back down the stairs. “You can make yourself at home. Feel free to use the TV while Sara’s napping, or eat what’s in the fridge or pantry if you’re hungry.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

You pull out your wallet and hand him a card. “This one is for you. If you ever feel like eating anything or going somewhere with Sara, you can use this. I opened it for you specifically -- I figured it’d be easier than reimbursing you.”

He pockets it. “Sounds good,” he says.

You stand there, feeling awkward. “Well, I think that was all.”

He nods. “Go get ready,” he says reassuringly. “If I need something or have any questions, I’ll shoot you a text. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” you say in relief. “Thanks.”

You nearly sprint upstairs and jump in the shower. It takes you two minutes to do everything you need to do -- you’ve been taking micro-showers since you took Sara in, terrified that something would happen to her in your absence. Watching the time, you blow your hair dry, apply simple makeup, and change into a comfortable pair of black slacks and a white button-up. You arrive downstairs to see Mingyu at the sink with Sara, having sat her in the crook of his arm so he can wash her sticky face.

The sight of them warms your heart. “Okay, I’ve gotta dash,” you say. “Please, reach out to me if you need anything.”

He smiles. “I will. Drive safe.”

“Okay,” you say, bounding out the door and into your car.

The office hushes a bit when you walk in. They knew you were coming back today, but it must be surreal after the three months you’ve been gone, especially when this is your magazine -- you’re the only person at the company who’s been there since the beginning, because you started it. Cory is quick to hop to your side. “Hi, boss,” he greets. The rest of the office goes back to their activities as you enter your large, glass-paneled office.

“Hi, Cory,” you say. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he says, seemingly lost for any other words. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks,” you say. “So, update me. Where are we at with the Serena Williams feature?”

“She was super understanding, and the publishers were too,” he says. “Ruby wrote a great piece, though, so as soon as we’ve got the green light we’ll start the launch. I’ve got Jojo on the social media build, and she’s got a two-on-one scheduled with us later to go over it.”

You nod in approval. “Okay, sounds good. I’m gonna contact Park Seojun’s agent today, so I’d like a list of writers you think could write that story well before our meeting with Jojo. I’m thinking we use someone in-house, but I’m open to contracting out if you’re worried people in the office already have too much to do.”

Cory gives you a thumbs up. “Got it,” he says, heading back to his desk.

You breathe in your office air, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. You can’t say you’re happy, per se -- but you aren’t as empty as you have been. Bora had been right -- getting back to work is going to be good for you.

***

Toward the end of the day, though, you begin feeling a strange pull -- a pull toward home. You know Mingyu and Sara have been fine, because Mingyu has been texting you periodically throughout the day:

9:49

MG: hey, we’re out of wet wipes over here. do you have any extra boxes?

You: yeah they’re in your bathroom under the sink!

MG: okay I should’ve thought to check there, thanks! You saved my life haha

You: no worries! Is everything ok?

MG: yeah its good, no need to stress. Sara just needs a diaper change.

You: ok, sounds good! Thanks!

11:30

MG: sara reeeeeeeeeeeally likes pears

You: oh yeah they’re her favorite lol

He’d sent you a video of Sara screeching with joy as he put a spoonful of pear mush into her mouth.

MG: like i’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about pears

You: i love it when she screams at her food, that’s the best

MG: me too its so cute haha

1:43

MG: ok i forgot to ask

MG: how long are her naps supposed to be

You: tbh I usually let her sleep an hour or so...i should probably do research on what’s developmentally appropriate

MG: lmao nah i gotchu

Then a few minutes later:

1:52

MG: so apparently huckleberrycare.com suggests 2-3 hours of daytime sleep for kids sara’s age

You: damn, that’s a long time

You: well, i guess let her sleep? She might not stay down that long, but we can adjust her routine a bit to try and get her there

MG: sounds good. Is she a light sleeper? She’s on me rn and i don’t want to wake her up if i move her

You: oh no you can totally put her in her crib lol she won’t wake up

MG: ok thanks haha my arm was kind of going numb bc i was too scared to change positions lmao

You: hahaha yes you’re totally fine to put her in as soon as she goes to sleep usually

MG: great to know, thanks lol

And more throughout the day, littered with photos of Sara in varying states of ridiculousness. You found yourself actually smiling as each text rolled in, grateful for the updates, knowing you would’ve felt a lot more anxious if you hadn’t heard anything.

Still, you didn’t want to keep Mingyu waiting too long. He was supposed to get off at 6, and you wanted to make sure he didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of him. So you left work earlier than normal, beating the rush hour traffic and coming through the door to see Mingyu playing with your niece on the floor. He looks up at you as you come in and waves you over. “She rolled over just barely,” he whispers excitedly. “Watch!”

Sara struggles, whining a little bit, before rolling from her stomach to her back. You clap excitedly, lifting her from the floor into your arms and kissing her pudgy cheek. “Good job, Sara!” you coo, and she burbles happily, touching your face with a fat hand.

Suddenly, you notice something -- the house is clean.

“Mr. Kim,” you say slowly, “did you clean my house?”

He suddenly looks sheepish. “Uh, yeah, I did,” he says. “I’m sorry if that was...I don’t know, not my place.”

“Are you apologizing for cleaning?” you ask him, amused. “I feel bad you felt the need to do that! I shouldn’t have -- have let it get so bad.”

He gives you an extremely gentle look that you are sure he didn’t intend to make your knees go weak. “You’ve been through a lot recently,” he says. “I think you should be kinder to yourself. Also, there was a time when I was in college and living with roommates, and it was way worse cleaning up after some of them.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” you say, returning his smile with Sara propped on your hip.

You stare at him for a minute, and then shake yourself. “Well, I’m here now, so I guess you can...go?” You make a face at your phrasing. “I’m not trying to kick you out. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay past your hours.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. I get you. Have a good night.” He heads for the door, calling over his shoulder. “Actually, I made some fried rice this afternoon. The leftovers are in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait a minute, Mr. Kim,” you call after him, following him on his way out.

He turns around, smiling at your tone. “You can call me Mingyu,” he offers.

You nod. “Okay, Mingyu. You cooked, cleaned, and took care of Sara while I was at work?”

“Yeah,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “Is that so odd?”

“I never managed to do all three in one day,” you admit ashamedly.

“Well, I’m not mourning the loss of my sister,” he reminds you, and his voice is a bit stern. “That kind of thing takes a lot of energy.” He rests a big hand on your shoulder comfortingly before opening the door. “See you tomorrow.”

[lilybug-02]

Bribed with Chocolate. The way it should be.

Part 22 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

More to come as this is a two-parter. But you know how I am with schedules.

Bonus:

I think this was an equally possible reaction from Chara.

[b-o-e]

alone with you, take two

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: jealous wally, frustrating neighbours, mwah mwah kissy smooches!!

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #11 :)

Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.

“Hun, would you mind helping me with these treats please?”

Your attention was drawn away from Wally, once again. 

It was a Friday night, and the neighbourhood was gathered for their weekly get together, of course. Lots of eating, game playing, and mingling going on.

You left Wally’s side, assuring him you would be right back, off to assist Poppy with whatever it was she needed.

Wally blew out an irritated huff.

And this get together seemed to mean he barely got to steal any of you for himself.

Everyone was taking you left and right. ‘Hey, come play a game with us!’ ‘Would you help me set these up?’ ‘Come take a look at this!’ No matter what, it was one thing or another, back to back to back.

Now, despite having quite a way with words, Wally still didn’t know how to use them, at times.

Occasionally, he didn’t know how to ask for things, particularly when it comes to a new challenge he's unsure of how to approach. He just… didn’t. So, what would he do instead?

He would stare.

And he would stare.

And he would stare.

He would stare, until the other person picked up on his silent plea for assistance. Or, until it will have been long enough where he figures it out himself.

This was the predicament you were in now. Although, unfortunately for Wally, you were still yet to notice you were in any sort of predicament at all.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He almost couldn’t complain, because it provided an extra good excuse to look at you. At the same time, he was getting frustrated, because how haven’t you realized yet? 

Well, actually, maybe you had. But, whenever it seemed like you were going to inquire, someone stole your attention away, which would irk Wally just a little bit more.

It’s happened multiple times now. By just about everyone. Twice, by most! Were they doing it on purpose, at this point? Wally was beginning to question.

For now, Wally watched and waited. And watched and waited. And watched and waited. Until finally, you were finished helping Poppy and on your way back over to him. So, he seized his opportunity.

“Would you—” he began, only to be cut off.

“Hey pipsqueak! Come play a quick round with Eddie n I!” 

If looks could kill, Barnaby would’ve been dead where he stood.

“Deal me in, too!” Howdy raised a hand, making his way over to the table, stretching his other arms and cracking his knuckles with confidence.

“Do you get one or two hands, with two sets of arms?”

“Actually,” you glanced at Wally, looking over at the group again. “Give him two! He can play for me, I’ll hop in later,” 

“Which hand do you wanna be, kiddo?”

“Uh… top? Cause I’m on top, y’know?”

Howdy sniggered.

“Okay, I’ll give you the bottom hand.”

“Jeez. Ask me for my fancy, just to ignore it,” you clicked your tongue in amusement, looking at Wally. He gazed back at you, eyes hopeful. Was he finally getting your attention? All to himself? “What did you want to say, sorry?”

Wally sighed with relief. Finally!

“Would you li–”

“Starlight! Won’t you come join Julie and I’s game?” Sally called out to you.

Nope.

Wally had it.

As you opened your mouth to reply, Wally took you by the hand, answering for you.

“Later.”

His tone was sharp and curt as he stormed toward the door, leading you behind him.

No more distractions.

Wally pulled you along, pausing briefly at the exit and looking at you, ensuring you were fine with this. Your eyes met his, and although surprised and confused, you understood the silent question and gave him a nod to go on.

The two of you stepped outside, walking briskly into the cool night. A sigh of relief left Wally, glad to finally be away from his beloved although slightly infuriating neighbours. When he decided the two of you had wandered far enough, he slowed his pace, sucking in a breath of the refreshing air. He looked at you to apologize for being so brash, only to pause.

You were staring at him, a grin growing on your face.

“Is this what I think it is?” you questioned him. His brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Were you getting jealous in there, Wally?”

He gaped at the accusation. Jealous? Him? He opened his mouth to shut it down, only to hesitate.

Was he jealous?

His cheeks heated as realization hit him. He gaped like a fish, trying to think of a reasonable defense for himself, to no avail.

“... they were doing it on purpose,” he could only claim, deflating. 

“They were being quite rude, weren’t they?” you empathized with a giggle. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, sure of that much. “But they kept pulling you away, this way and that way. I think that I was deserving of a turn,”

“Well, no matter, now we are alone,” you smiled. “No more interruptions. What would you like, Wally?” you asked him.

He blanked.

Right.

The reason he wanted your attention in the first place.

Wally’s head dipped down shyly, his fingers gently toying with your own.

How does he say it?

He returned his gaze back to your eyes. You were waiting patiently for him to speak. No rush at all. You never did.

“I wanted to step outside with you,” he said, speaking slow as he took the time to figure out his words.

“I wanted to spend some time away, just you and I,” he continued. “Everyone was demanding your attention, but I wanted some for myself. That sounds quite selfish now that I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” He mumbled.

“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all,” you begged to differ. “I think that you have a right to desire some extra attention from me. We are together, after all. And, that being said, you are my top priority,” 

“As you are mine,” Wally nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.

“So, you just wanted to spend some time together?” You hummed softly, smiling at him. “I always quite like that idea,”

“Well, not quite…” he trailed along sheepishly, looking down at your interlocked hands.

“What would that be, Darling?”

“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.

“To kiss me?”

He nodded.

“Well, why don’t you, then?”

He peeked up at you.

“... might I?”

“Of course,” you giggled. 

“… now I’m nervous,” he uttered bashfully, gazing downward as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. You grinned in amusement, leaning closer to him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You whispered, placing your finger under his chin to redirect his attention to you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, gazing into yours as he licked his dry lips.

“Please?” He murmured out. 

With a smile, you tilted his chin up a bit more, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his in a sweet, short kiss. He went a little rigid before he relaxed into it, though he didn’t have quite enough time to reciprocate before you moved to break the kiss. 

As you began to pull away, his hand found the side of your neck, not ready for you to leave just yet. He led you back in before you went too far, his lips met yours once again, bringing you in for another kiss, slow and loving.

Moments later, Wally pulled away, more content this time. He gazed at you, any hint of his prior frustration nowhere to be seen anymore, nothing but a look of fondness left remaining in his eyes. He studied you, from your flushed cheeks to your small smile, meeting your equally love filled eyes.

“Are you satisfied now?” You asked with a light teasing tone, rubbing at your warm cheek as if it would make your embarrassed blush fade away. Wally clicked his tongue, glancing towards the noisy home down the way.

“Mmm, I’m not sure…” he hummed with a playful tone, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.  “I think that I deserve you for some time more. How does another kiss sound to you? Then, maybe I’ll be satisfied,”

hi! hello! did i scare you? i'm back from the dead to offer you this! i hope that you enjoyed! burnout is real, bahaha! if you are new, i have some other fics along these lines you can read as well!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

also!!! ART!!! people made art based on my fics!!! MIND BLOWING!!! check them out, super duper cool!

@leon-dechino created this one and this one! SO cool, mind boggling, makes me so happy gavhxsah

@sunkyss created this one! AHHH! so wild man, i still can't believe it bahaha! i highly suggest you check both of them out! they have so many cool works on top of these!

alas! 'tis all for now! i hope to see you soon! MWAH! until next time <3

Posted Wednesday, June 7, 2023 at 2:07 PM

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EPISODE 2 AND 3 HAVE BEEN SOOOO FUN im already so emotionally attached to each of these characters.. if anything bad ever happens to any of them im killing everyone and then everyone.

[pridesobright]

HARRY’S HOUSE by Harry Styles · part i · part ii

please, do not repost · you can follow me on instagram and support me on etsy ·

[shady-tavern]

Vampire’s Lullaby Part 2

Part One

Warnings for implied harm and death that happen off-screen. Otherwise, this chapter turned out to be rather soft.

***

The morning came, pale and peaceful and nothing was amiss. If anything, when she passed by the other hunters of their street on her way to work, they were in good spirits. They wished Dion a speedy recovery and told her to talk to them if she or her family needed anything.

She did not walk too fast, as she did all mornings now since saving the monster boy, making sure the shop was bathed in pale light by the time she arrived. It was almost strange, how normal everything was. She set the shop up as usual and greeted Mr. Bell when he arrived.

She had half expected things to go wrong, for some kind of punishment to come down upon her head for mingling with night creatures. Or that the vampire herself was going to do anything. But nothing.

The day passed like any other and that night the vampire was back once more, sitting on the roof and keeping watch. They spoke with each other for a moment and the vampire was polite and even friendly. Annabelle once again fell asleep to soft singing and woke to pale morning light, everyone she knew safe and sound.

A week passed in this manner and Annabelle started to look forward to the nights a little. To how quiet it had become and to the soft bit of conversation she shared with the vampire.

Right up until Mr. Bell sharply called her name during work, startling her out of her focused work.

Hurrying out of the back, she drew to a stop when she saw the man standing on the other side of the counter. Dressed in expensive, embroidered brocade, a necklace heavy with emeralds hanging about his throat and buttons gleaming golden. He must be one of the nobles and he looked very impatient.

His attitude did not improve as they took his order. The baron, as he introduced himself, was less than eager to be here, but apparently he needed to get something done fast and they had been recommended to him. He promised a pay hefty enough that Annabelle nearly gasped out loud and left them with a handful of gems he wanted to be part of the front cover.

"You're a true treasure," Mr. Bell whispered as soon as the baron had left, getting into an equally gleaming and elegant carriage, drawn by two snow-white horses. "You worked so hard even the upper crust heard of us."

Annabelle felt a small, hysterical giggle escape before she bit back the rest. Mr. Bell and she stared at each other, before they both started grinning and bustled into the back, chattering back and forth as they rapidly got to work.

If this man was satisfied or even happy with his order, they might get more expensive clientele. Mr. Bell was singing a cheerful song that usually was usually heard in taverns over an ale and Annabelle joined in, neither of them caring that they were not great singers in the least.

The day passed far too fast and even though Mr. Bell stayed until the final bell of the evening, they weren't quite done with the baron's order yet. The baron wanted to retrieve his book first thing in the morning and while such an order would have been nearly impossible for anyone else, they really wanted to get it done.

"We best get going," Mr. Bell said with great reluctance. "I'm sure we can finish it at dawn."

Annabelle glanced down at the book, then outside, gauging the position of the sun. "I'll finish up and run home," she said. "It should be done in just a few more minutes, right? Half an hour at most, it will still be bright enough that not many night creatures are out and about."

Mr. Bell hesitated, then sighed, "If you are sure?" At her nod he grabbed his things. "Alright, but don't come in first thing in the morning, understood? You deserve to sleep in after all this. And no matter what, your life is more important than money, understood? If you get worried or scared, go home right away."

She couldn't help but smile and nodded, focusing back on the book as he left. It was going to be a beautiful piece, made of dark green, thin leather, embossed with gold letters and decorated with the gems the baron had left them with.

When she was finally done, feeling satisfied and her back cracking as she straightened, she looked up and felt her heart drop into her stomach. It was pitch-dark outside.

How? How had she gotten so lost in her work that she had missed the way light had disappeared, only replaced by the lanterns and candles Mr. Bell had left on. Her mouth turned dust dry.

There was no way she'd get home safe. Maybe, if she was really, really quiet, managed to extinguish all light and hid under her desk, no night creature noticed her in here. Maybe she could hide here and hold out until morning.

The tinkle of the bell of the front door made her flinch and startle onto her feet. Had Mr. Bell not looked the door? Had he left the lights on out in the shop as well?

"Hello?" a woman's voice called out, curious and a little befuddled. "I saw the lights on, are you still in?"

It took her a second to recognize the voice over her panic and pounding heart. It was the vampire she had asked for help. What was she doing here?

"You didn't return home," the vampire continued and Annabelle heard the muffled sound of steps, as though the night creature was walking slowly up and down the shop. "If you are done for the day, I will wait outside for you. Unless you'd like to walk home alone?"

And be eaten? Surely not. "Thank you," she found herself saying, her pounding heart finally easing a bit.

"I told you I'd look after you and yours," the vampire said and Annabelle heard the tinkle of bells. "Those books are beautiful, by the way."

Then the vampire was gone and she exhaled in a rush, sagging a bit as tension drained out of her. Her hands shook a little when she rubbed them over her face, before she reached for her shawl.

She was scared to go outside, but she couldn't stay here. If she stayed, so did the vampire and then who would look after her family? Extinguishing all the lights, she wrapped the shawl tightly around herself and stepped outside.

Nerves made her hands a bit clumsy as she locked the door, glancing around. It was quiet and no street lights were lit in the crossroads, since no one lived here and the city had considered it a waste of resources. It took her a moment to notice the large shadow in the dark, wings half unfolded for balance as the vampire crouched on the ledge of a roof.

"I'm ready," she whispered, shoulders tense and heart still pitter-pattering nervously. She tried to calm down, taking a few deep breaths until she felt less like she was going to scream in fright at the next thing that moved too fast and too unexpectedly.

When she started walking, the vampire followed easily above her. It was surprisingly calm all around and she neither heard nor saw anything. The vampire didn't have to snarl or hiss, just paused once and tensed, clacking her claws warningly against shingles, then moved on like nothing had happened.

It made her wonder how powerful the vampire must be, to so easily command the space she walked through. By the time Annabelle hurried down the main road towards home, she felt...safe. Unexpectedly so, considering she was outside in the dark.

The other hunters of their street were worried and glad to see her, escorting her to the front door of her home and reprimanding her for staying out so long.

"You were very lucky," a rough looking woman said, the one Dion always chatted with while waiting for the sun to disappear. "What would I have said your brother if you got yourself killed while he's not there?"

"It won't happen again," she promised, before the door swung open and her ashen faced mother dragged her inside and into a hug.

Annabelle endured the scolding and worrying of her family and after a quick dinner, she excused herself. She hesitated, then opened the window.

"Miss Vampire?" she whisper-called, leaning forward a bit.

When the vampire appeared, upside down, between one moment and the next, she bit back a startled scream by the skin of her teeth. Instead she inhaled sharply and flinched back a step, pressing her heart over her chest.

"Was that necessary?" she found herself gasping out, glaring at the vampire who tilted her head, mouth opening into an impish grin and wings twitching. "You're impossible." She took a calming, deep breath. "But, thank you, for bringing me home safe."

The vampire chittered at her almost softly, then waved a hand towards her bed in a shooing motion.

But Annabelle was a bit too awake now to consider sleeping. Instead she lit a candle and glanced between the clothes she had to mend and the book she had intended to read. With a soft sigh she reached for thread and needle first. Work before pleasure, her parents had always said.

A tap of claws against iron made her glance over and the vampire was gesturing at the book. Did she wish to read it? Annabelle hesitated, then picked it up.

"Return it to me before you leave," she said as she walked to the window. "Treat it well, please. Books mean a great deal to me."

The vampire took the book with visible care and disappeared. Annabelle turned back to her sewing, when she heard the vampire's voice, clear and close enough that she must be right above the window on the roof. Reading the book out loud.

Annabelle sat still for a long minute, then she found herself smiling a little and started to sew. Two chapters in however, the vampire had clear opinions on the book.

"Is this considered romantic?" her voice was full of disbelief and offense. She pitched her voice, re-reading a sentence she had just read out loud, "'Not to say you aren't beautiful, however this hair style simply does not match you.' Who asked for this fool's opinion?"

Annabelle had to bite back a startled laugh and she couldn't help but agree. The book was dreadful. However, as the vampire continued reading it genuinely got better from there. Not because the book got better, but because those affronted comments were quite funny and very amusing.

The vampire got increasingly more offended at the contents of the book and Annabelle found herself laughing at last, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

"I'll bring you one of my books," the vampire groused, audibly thumbing through the book at rapid pace. "Three hundred pages of this nonsense? How are you still sane?"

"I haven't read it yet," Annabelle answered, mirth bright in her voice and that was when she realized that she had stopped being afraid. 

Somewhere between being guarded for a week, being brought home safe and being read to in an increasingly incredulous, pained manner, she had stopped fearing for herself. "I have another one you could read instead," she offered.

Instead of answering, a pale hand appeared at the top of the window, still holding the book with care. The vampire wore a delicate gold ring and a golden bracelet studded with topaz. The long sleeve that fell down to nearly her wrist was black with pale, shimmering embroidery.

Annabelle took hold of the book and traded it with one Mr. Bell had given her a couple of days ago. She settled down again as the vampire began to read and she seemed far happier with this book. In all honesty, Annabelle enjoyed this tale far more as well.

She listened to the story of a young boy who found a lost star and their journey to bring the star back home. It was the first time in far too long that an evening truly felt peaceful.

It was quiet outside, no monsters to be heard and the breeze drifting inside was cool and brought with it a refreshing scent.

Had the world been like this once upon a time? Before the dark had to be feared like it was feared today? Had there been a time when people sat together to read and chat beneath the starry sky? She had only heard about such things in stories and in this moment, she couldn't help but dream of a world so different to her own.

Something gentler, something almost peaceful. She wasn't foolish or naive enough to believe danger would disappear forever just because she wished it, but there had to be a way to make the world better than it was now.

"May I have your name?" she asked when she finished mending and the vampire paused, having read the last sentence of the book. "I would like to call you something."

The vampire hummed softly, thoughtful, but answered, "I'm Charlette, and who are you, sweet human that I guard?"

Feeling a little surprised and quietly flattered at those unexpected words, Annabelle hurriedly put away her needle and thread. "I'm Annabelle and I can honestly say that it is nice to get to know you."

Charlette chuckled. "You're the first human to say so." Annabelle heard her close the book. "Are those the sort of stories you enjoy reading?"

"Among others." Annabelle leaned back, her chair creaking softly. "I mostly love stories with happy endings."

Charlette hummed thoughtfully. "I see. I think I can find some of those." Her arm appeared at the top of the window again. "Here, I quite enjoyed this one."

Annabelle accepted her book and her breath caught in her chest when her fingertips brushed Charlette's accidentally. She was cool, but no colder than Annabelle's hands would be if she were outside right now.

"Why do you night creatures hate us so much?" The question slipped out unbidden in a soft whisper.

"I don't hate you," the vampire answered without a moment's hesitation. Then she added, "I've never had much of a problem with humans."

"Then what have we done to earn such wrath from the others? So much bloodshed and death?"

Charlette was quiet for a long moment. "I've heard rumors," she answered at last. "That humans killed the Night King."

That was the first time Annabelle heard of such a thing. "Who was the Night King?"

"A powerful and old night walker," Charlette answered. "You wouldn't find them anywhere anymore, he was the last one. I don't really know what he was like, but I know that the night folk felt safe under his protection. I don't really know much else, I haven't been long in the city and I lived in a remote, rather isolated place before that."

Annabelle frowned to herself in thought, absentmindedly tracing the letters of the storybook. "Is there a way to find out what happened? Or how to change what's happening?"

Charlette hummed, a strange, inhuman note underlying the noise. "I could look into it, if you'd like," she offered and Annabelle heard the faint tink of claws tapping thoughtfully on shingles.

"You would?" Annabelle couldn't stop the hope from singing through her voice. 

There was a soft, near chirping kind of noise. "I find I'm...I quite like you, Annabelle. It won't be much trouble to bug some acquaintances or to poke around."

Relief made her feel lighter than she had in years. She peered out the window, though she saw nothing of the vampire. There wasn't even a shadow to watch tonight, not with clouds gathering in the sky and quiet disappointment shadowed the relief. She would have liked to see her face right now. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Charlette shifted on the roof and a moment later, Annabelle saw half of an elegant, black shoe dangling into view, along with the hem of a black dress, studded in clear crystals.

"Would you like anything in exchange?" Annabelle asked, finding herself leaning forward a bit and peering up, as though she could finally spot a glimpse of the vampire's face. "I would owe you a great deal if you could uncover this mystery."

And possibly bring an end to all the death and pain and horror.

Charlotte chuckled, low and darkly amused. "That's a dangerous promise to make to my kind. What if I'd like a sip of your blood? All your good dreams for a year? An invitation to your house so I can feed on you and your family while you sleep?"

Annabelle frowned, head tipping to the side. She didn't feel worried, not when Charlette had never done anything to her or threatened such a thing.

"I don't think you would." She swallowed and stood up straighter, even if there was no one to see her posture. "Not if I asked you not to."

This time the chuckle sounded less dark. "You seem to have me figured out. Then I'll think about what I'll ask for," Charlette answered, then her voice turned mock-dry and she sighed theatrically, "Since eating you is so evidently off the table."

Annabelle had no idea why that made her laugh, the sound quickly muffled by the hand she lifted to her mouth, half horrified at herself for liking such a macabre joke. It seemed Dion wasn't the only one in the family to enjoy such humor. 

"I'd be pleased to find them all alive in the morning, thank you very much," she answered.

"Then you shall." Charlette sounded both amused and unexpectedly sincere. "I would hate to never hear your laugh again."

Annabelle felt surprised and touched at those words and found herself biting back a smile, lifting the book as though to hide her face from prying eyes. She hadn't known that night creatures, no, the night folk, could be so...sweet. Strange and frightening, yes, but also sweeter than she had thought. And kinder.

She didn't know what to say to that, lightly clearing her throat. "Well, if you keep doing what you're doing I guess I'll be laughing more in no time."

"Oh, consider it done," Charlette answered in a near purring tone that made heat gentle rise to her cheeks. "I don't think I could spend my nights any better than I currently do."

Flustered and flattered and having no idea what to do with any of those feelings, Annabelle shuffled away from the window.

"Speaking of night, it's, um, it's pretty late. I think I'll head to bed now," she said, pressing wind-cool fingertips against her heated face. "Good night."

She hurried to get ready for bed, accompanied by Charlette's quiet, throaty laugh.

"Good night," Charlette said as she slid beneath the sheets. "I'll keep watch until sunrise."

Curling up beneath the blankets, Annabelle kept watching the window. "Thank you." Ever since the vampire was there, Annabelle had felt safer than ever. Had slept better than ever.

When Charlette started to sing, the song was quiet and soft and Annabelle fell asleep, silently wishing the vampire could stay forever. Could be here every night, even once Dion was all healed up.

.*.*.*.

Annabelle visited Dion the next morning, using Mr. Bell's order to show up late to drop by the clinic first. 

"Is everyone well?" her brother asked in a heavy voice, while looking as though he was going to fall asleep again at any moment. "Mama and Papa don't seem to be very alright."

Their parents looked worn and tired and Annabelle worried they weren't sleeping well. Her other brothers were quiet and withdrawn, faces tense and marred with deep frowns. It made her wish she could tell them that she had a deal, a promise, of safety from a vampire. At least until Dion was fully healed.

They would not react well to that at all, however. She'd be dragged to the priests right away, to make sure she hadn't been thralled or otherwise influenced. Someone would then stake out in her room to try and kill Charlette. The very thought made her stomach clench and her heart ache.

"They're fine," she reassured Dion, offering a calming smile. 

She quickly distracted him by telling him about everything that had happened yesterday. She had visited him on her free day last, her parents and older brothers dropping by more often, since they were a bit more flexible with their time.

Halfway through her tale about the baron's visit, his eyes fell closed and his breathing deepened into slumber. Annabelle exhaled quietly and smoothed an edge of the blanket down. Sunlight shone through the windows, the bars casting thin shadows across his sickbed.

Her mind kept snagging at what Charlette had told her last night. The hope that had been ignited within her that this horror could end. That Dion could heal and go home and never again would he or anyone else be forced to pick up cold, hard iron in order to keep their loved ones alive.

She got up after another minute. Dion was fast asleep and he would remain like this for a while. He needed his rest. She left with a polite, grateful goodbye to Dr. Under, who waved her off with a vague noise, taking care of another injured hunter.

Mr. Bell was bustling around the shop when she arrived, in high spirits and praising her for how beautiful the book had turned out. The baron showed up an hour later, turning his ordered book this way and that, sniffing in acceptance, somehow simultaneously looking satisfied and not happy at all. He handed over more money than Annabelle had ever seen at once.

"It will do," the baron said in parting, sweeping outside as he added, "I think I shall be back."

Mr. Bell and she watched him leave with wide eyes, before they looked down at the money, at each other and then they were giggling like children, excited and almost speechless.

"Look at this!" Mr. Bell exclaimed, immediately starting to divide up the money. When he handed her what he said he owed her, she felt her breath catch. That was more than they had agreed upon first.

"You'll be able to hire a hunter now, while your brother heals," Mr. Bell said with a smile, waving off her sputtering protests. "We can always buy another printing press later, don't you worry. Besides, I'm sure we'll see that sour fellow again sooner or later."

She felt her eyes sting a little and couldn't help but pull Mr. Bell into a hug, who laughed and gave her a grandfatherly pat on the shoulder.

"Now, none of that, you hear me? There is no need for tears. Besides, we have more than enough work to take care of."

She nodded, sniffling once and pulled back, quickly pocketing the money before she took a deep breath and got to work with renewed determination. Mr. Bell chuckled and sat down at his desk, humming a soft, happy tune under his breath.

It was a good day and they kept working in high spirits, the other clients who dropped by to pick up their orders remarking on the good atmosphere. Mr. Bell left as he always did, a spring in his step and he told her not to stay too long, that she deserved to go home early as well.

Annabelle sang to herself as she finished up the last work of the day, the bell of the clock tower warning her about the setting sun. But for once she didn't feel scared, didn't startle into a flurry of hurried motions in order to get home in time.

She cleaned up and locked the door and went home with a smile on her face, nodding at people along the way and wishing neighbors a good night. The hunters on their street waved at her and she waved back.

Her family looked exhausted when she arrived, but they were glad to see her happy.

"We're safe," she tried to reassure them. "Everyone says they'll keep an eye out until Dion's back."

Guilt ate at her like sharp teeth when she kept the money she had made a secret. She wanted to save it, for when Dion was healthy again and Charlette wouldn't watch their house anymore. She wanted to buy her brother some more restful time if possible.

Charlette didn't show up that night, to her surprise. Instead, Annabelle heard a rumbly sort of growl and looked up, inhaling sharply in startled surprise.

"It's alright, you're safe," the large werewolf across from her on the other roof said quickly. "Charlette asked me to keep watch tonight." 

Then the werewolf straightened, ears perked and placed a hand on its chest. "Thank you," it said with utter sincerity. "For saving my son."

Oh, this was the boy's mother. Now that she took a closer look, her heart calming back down from it's frightened beat, she did recognize the werewolf.

"You're both well?" she couldn't help but ask, remembering the limp, whimpering and bleeding lump the werewolf had been in Charlette's arm.

Those ears flicked once and the werewolf grinned, making her look even more frightening and fearsome, but her yellow eyes held a spark of warmth. "We are. He's been talking about you, you know. Says he forgot to ask you if you liked his picture."

"I did," Annabelle slowly, cautiously approached the window. Just because Charlette hadn't hurt her didn't mean other night folk wouldn't take the chance when they got it. "He seems to be a sweet kid."

"He is." The werewolf preened in pride, then settled down, looking relaxed. "And don't worry," she said, a growl slipping into her voice. "I'll keep you lot safe." She snorted, amused. "Not that I'm necessarily needed here, considering Charlette thoroughly claimed this area. But she said you'd feel safer if I was there."

Annabelle felt her heart warm at those words, a smile tugging at her mouth. "That's sweet of her."

"She can be," the werewolf agreed, elbow on her thigh and chin resting in her palm. "But only if she likes someone. My son and I were the only ones she cared for for a long time, so I'm glad to see she's found someone else whose company she enjoys."

Annabelle's smile grew. "Well, the feeling is mutual. Tell her I'll miss her and that I hope she's safe. And thank you, for being here."

The werewolf grinned again and this time it looked a little less frightening. "She'll be very happy to hear that. And of course, after you saved my son and made Charlette's nights better, it's the least I could do. But don't let me keep you up if you're tired."

It was probably for the best to get some rest. "Good night. Oh, if any of the hunters notice you, just leave, they won't abandon the houses they protect."

The werewolf nodded. "I'll be careful not to be spotted, but they don't have to fear me either way. I never hurt people who don't try to kill my family first."

Fair enough, Annabelle would not act very kindly or sweetly if someone tried to harm those she loved in front of her eyes. She got ready for bed and decided to leave the window open, in case the werewolf needed to get her attention for something.

When she laid in bed, she found she struggled to fall asleep. It was simultaneously too quiet and not quiet enough. There was no pleasant singing, no vampire on her roof and somehow that absence was loud in the gentle, calm of the night.

She fell asleep after long minutes of staring up at the dark ceiling, trusting in a promise being kept and a fierce werewolf guarding the house.

.*.*.*.

It took three nights before Charlette came back. By then Annabelle had gotten to know the werewolf, whose name was Ophelia.

Since Charlette had apparently claimed this part of the city as hers, Ophelia pretty much had nothing to do. They had ended up talking quite a bit with each other as a result and Annabelle had put books on her windowsill for Ophelia to read.

Still, Annabelle had missed the vampire, had missed her company and singing and the steady, calm and unshakeable safety she brought with her presence alone. 

It had been a bit of a shock at first, to realize just how fond she had grown of Charlette. How there was a quiet sting of disappointment every night she saw Ophelia instead of her, even if she liked the werewolf.

"Welcome back," Annabelle said when she saw the large bat land quietly, a glad smile appearing on her face before she knew it.

"Finally," Ophelia said with good humor, leaning closer to Annabelle since she was sitting right across from her on the edge of the roof. The werewolf lifted a hand in front of her face to mock-whisper, "This one's pinning had gotten bad."

Pinning? Annabelle barely had a moment to properly process that, before Charlette tackled the werewolf straight off the roof and into the alley. There was growly laughter and hissing and startled shouts from a nearby hunter.

The two night folk quickly fell quiet after the hunter's warning yells and a few moments later, Ophelia hopped back onto the roof, while Charlette appeared suddenly in front of Annabelle, hanging upside-down in front of her window.

Annabelle smiled again, not even startling a little. Others probably considered this to be the height of foolishness, but she didn't fear Charlette. She didn't even find her nightmarish bat-form terrifying anymore. Oh, she knew Charlette was still frightening, that she could rip any human apart like wet paper, but Annabelle didn't think it was going to happen. Not to her, at any rate.

"I hope you're well?" she asked and Charlette swiftly ducked out of sight again, her voice answering a moment later.

"I am. I hope my friend took good care of you?"

"I'll take offense to that," Ophelia answered dryly. "But I'll forgive you this once. Now, please excuse me you two, you can make moon-eyes at each other without me having to bear witness."

With a jovial wave, the werewolf left, easily hopping across roofs and Annabelle heard a soft, aggrieved grumble from Charlette.

"Meddling friends," the vampire muttered. 

"I wouldn't know," Annabelle found herself saying, Charlette falling silent. "I haven't really had a friend in years."

Not since their old neighbors had moved away when she had been twelve. After that it had been hard to connect with others and nowadays she spent all day at work and was locked up at home afterwards. It didn't leave much time for socializing and the few times people had flirted with her at work hadn't really led to anything.

"We could be friends," Charlette offered. "And Ophelia likes you as well, she said as much every time she came back at dawn. I'm pretty sure she already considers you her friend."

"Are other humans and night folk friends as well?" Annabelle asked, genuinely curious. Charlette and Ophelia couldn't be the only nice night folk in the world, after all. "I've never heard of such a thing."

Charlette huffed, amused and wry all at once. "Of course not. From what I could gather, you humans don't take well to such connections. But there are a couple of friendships and relationships across the city."

There were? So she wasn't strange or alone in not hating or fearing the night folk? Or rather, Charlette and Ophelia. She still feared the others and what they could do.

"Speaking of which," Charlette continued before Annabelle could answer. "I think I found out what happened to the Night King and why there is such carnage now."

Annabelle stepped forward, fingertips brushing the windowsill. "Please tell me."

"It's not pretty," Charlette warned, then continued, "The night folk demand revenge for the murder of their king. Until the price is paid in blood, there will be no peace."

Annabelle knotted her fingers together in worry. "I understand that, but it isn't fair to punish all of us for the transgression of a few." Then she frowned heavily. "And it's been so long already since the attacks started, the ones who did it are most likely already dead."

A moment of heavy silence followed. "I forgot," Charlette murmured, an unhappy note to her voice. "You humans don't live all that long."

"We live plenty long enough," Annabelle answered, feeling a little affronted. "It's you lot who live a ridiculous amount of time."

Charlette huffed a gentle, amused noise. "I guess you're not wrong."

Annabelle felt her lips twitch into a small smile, before it fell again. "Is there something that can be done?" she asked softly. "To make the night folk stop?"

Charlette exhaled heavily, almost sighing. "Someone strong enough could." She sounded reluctant now. "Once someone seizes control and calms the frenzy, things could change."

"Why won't anyone do that?" Annabelle found herself staring up, as though she could will Charlette into view to look straight at her. "Hasn't this gone on long enough?"

"It doesn't feel that long to them," Charlette answered. "Many night folk have fallen into mindless bloodlust and they cannot regain their senses by themselves anymore. There are only a small handful left who could take control, but they like to eat and drink as much as they please. They like terrifying humans too much to stop."

Annabelle was silent for a long moment, arms wrapped around herself in a imitation of a hug. "So this is it?" she found herself whispering. "We just have to endure this until one of the strong night folk decide they've enjoyed themselves enough? Or until they've killed us all?"

A low snarl curled through the air. "I would not let them," Charlette answered, voice hard. "Nothing will happen to you."

"I believe you." She really did. "But...this is no way to live, Charlette. To cower and hide and...and just endure until I'm old and frail and at last my bones return to the earth."

She felt exhausted and bitterness wrapped around her like a too-heavy cloak. Annabelle closed her eyes, trying to fight back the burn of tears. Weeping wouldn't change anything, no matter how much she wanted to cry.

Shattered hope was a horrible feeling, she realized as she stared down at her hands, cold and ink stained. She had only realized how fiercely she had hoped for an end for all of this now that there was nothing to be done. All she could do now was endure and that...that was no way to live, was it?

Charlette was silent for so long that Annabelle started to get ready for bed, her heart a heavy weight in her chest and her mood dreary and dark. She just wanted to lie down and not get up for a long while. She blew out the candle, casting the room in darkness when the vampire spoke up.

"You're right." Charlette's voice was soft. "I want more for you. And better."

Annabelle swallowed past her dry mouth as Charlette added, "That is really no life worth living."

Annabelle made a quiet, slightly rough sound in agreement. She couldn't keep living like this for the rest of her days. Frightened, small, scurrying. Scraping together what coin she could, working herself to the bone during the day, only to be terrified of all that came at night. Worrying she'd bury her brother, then her parents, then her other older brothers, until she was all that was left.

Even if Charlette would guard them all her days, something could always happen. Besides, other people still died. She would see the blood in her way to work, would see the haunted faces of hunters who stared at the sun like it was pure salvation.

"I'd do anything for things to change," Annabelle found herself saying, voice hollow and tinged in bitter sadness.

"A dangerous promise." Charlette's voice was soft and utterly devoid of teasing. "Don't give that promise to someone else, they'll ask for things you won't wish to give."

"Like what? My blood? My beating heart?" She'd give both if it meant the night folk stopped their rampage. 

"No." Charlette sounded grim. She was quiet for a second, then asked, "Would you invite me in, Annabelle?"

"I think the bars are in the way." She wouldn't go and unlock the door, not when Gerard was still awake and weaving and Charlette could be seen entering the house by one of the hunters.

Charlette huffed, darkly amused. "Those are child's play. They don't keep me out, but I cannot enter a home I'm not invited to. No vampire can."

She hadn't known that, but it explained all the warnings to never answer any luring, sweet calls. And why one should never get thralled. Did she want Charlette in the house? In her room?

She did, she realized. She felt so cold and hopeless, she wished to at least finally see Charlette's face. Annabelle turned towards the window.

"Charlette, I invite you into my home, please enter," she said, soft but clear. A moment later that elegant hand came into view and slowly, steadily, pried the bars out of the brickwork.

Charlette was careful enough to avoid making a noticeable amount of noise, taking the time to wriggle the bars out bit by bit, until she could pull them away entirely. Annabelle found her heart beating a little faster. She had never invited anyone into her room since she had been twelve and her friend had left.

A moment later, a tall shape dropped onto the windowsill. For as much as Charlette looked like a human now, she did not move like one. There was a predator's grace as she smoothly stepped inside, feet utterly silent on the floor. Only her long dress made a soft sound as the fabric fell down to her ankles.

Charlette stood with a confidence Annabelle had rarely seen, something unshakeable and true. The vampire knew she was powerful and dangerous and saw no need in proving either by needlessly puffing herself up. For everyone else would know she was dangerous by simply looking at her.

"You don't look at me anymore as though I'm frightening," Charlette said, voice soft and clear and she took slow steps closer, bridging the distance between them. 

There was just enough light cast by the moon outside for her to see her face. She was beautiful, her red hair long and her eyes the color of blood.

Annabelle looked up at the vampire, who stopped in front of her. "I don't fear you."

"I'm glad." Charlette's voice softened further, gentling into a near whisper. "I like seeing you happy."

Annabelle found herself smiling a little, almost shyly. "I think I owe you a favor," she said softly. "For finding out what you could about the Night King."

Charlette was quiet for a moment and Annabelle saw the the humorless smile appear on her face. "There is one thing I would ask, but not now. I think I need to earn a bit more of a favor for that."

Surprised, Annabelle tipped her head a little, trying to see her face better in the dark. "What do you mean?"

Charlette didn't answer and instead reached out, hand hovering near Annabelle's face without touching her. "May I?"

Annabelle felt her heart beat a little faster now, realizing it did so in the best of ways. "Yes." Her voice was quiet but clear in the silence of her room and the quiet of the calm night outside.

Gently, almost reverently, Charlette's cool hand settled on her cheek. "I don't think you know how much you captivated me," the vampire said softly, red eyes warm where her skin was not. "Your bravery, your laugh, your sweetness. How fearless you are and how much I enjoy speaking with you."

A cool thumb brushed along her cheekbone ever so gently. "I want to ask for something very brazen," Charlette continued in a near whisper. "Once I earn more of your good graces."

"You could ask now," Annabelle answered just as quietly, eyes caught by that blood-red gaze and she tipped her head a little, turning her cheek into that sweet touch. "Because I don't think you realize how much I enjoy your company, how fond I've grown of you."

This time, when Charlette smiled, it revealed a hint of fangs that would have looked frightening to Annabelle in the past. Now she was merely curious, knowing she had nothing to fear.

"What if I asked for a kiss?" Charlette said. "One you want to give me because you like me, not because you feel indebted."

"Then I'd say you should kiss me," Annabelle whispered back, her heart beating faster in excited anticipation. "If you like me as much as I like you."

"Oh, of that there is no doubt," Charlette breathed the words more than she said them, leaning in and Annabelle rose up on her toes. Long, soft hair brushed her cheek before lips ghosted across hers for just a moment. She smelled like fresh air and something soft and sweet, like flowers.

Before Charlette could pull back, Annabelle rose to her very tiptoes, pressing their lips together gently. Her hands came up, one lightly touching Charlette's arm and the other reaching up to cup her face, fingertips lightly tangling into silk-soft hair.

"Will you let me court you?" Annabelle asked in a soft whisper, opening her eyes. Charlette looked almost unbearably soft and it squeezed her heart in the best of ways.

Charlette laughed, quiet and brief and achingly fond. "I think I'm meant to ask you that. If you allow me to court you as well, I will gladly say yes."

Annabelle found herself grinning, the previous heaviness of her mood gentled and lightened, even if it wasn't gone entirely. 

Charlette brushed a feather light kiss against the corner of her mouth, as though tasting her smile, before pressing another one to her forehead. She then gently rested their foreheads together, free hand rising to take Annabelle's, tangling their fingers together.

"I think I know what to gift you," Charlette said. "If you're willing to accept something intangible."

Now that made her curious. "Of course." She gave Charlette's fingers a little squeeze. "I think I have an idea for a gift as well."

They smiled at each other for a long moment, until Annabelle had to pull back, hiding a yawn behind her hand. Charlette smiled softly, brushing fingertips over her hair.

"Rest, my love," she said. "I will stay until dawn."

"Can you sing for me?" Annabelle asked. "I find I sleep better if you do."

Charlette's eyes seemed brighter, now a liquid red. "Of course."

And sing she did and when Annabelle woke in the morning, she found a red rose lying on her desk, on top of a letter.

A letter that held the promise to change everything.

.*.*.

Part Three.

[mitamicah]

Hi did you make those keychains that other person was posting about? How did you make them?

Hi there

Yes I made the little keychain ^V^ (this one v)

I got help from this website :D

[juicedbeetle]

when the note doesn't light up (fav moments 6/?)

[ronkeyroo]

🌔 Finished that ol’ promo thingy I started weeks ago for the Raven x Vilkas mini-comic I’m making!

[daily-scott-smajor]

259 - average day

[yardsards]

tfw one of your fav fics got added to a private/unrevealed collection so you can't view it anymore and you forgot to download it so you might never get to reread it again :(((

[gardenvarietycrafts]

WIP Wednesday

The Supernova mkal is slowly growing! Clue 4 was released last night, but I'm still catching up on Clue 3. Once this side is finished, it looks like I'll mirror it on the other side and have a somewhat more triangular shawl shape. I'm really excited to see how it looks once I'm done with these clues!

MKAL pattern link

I also started Shawl 2! Yarn is another destash yarn with no label, but it feels like mohair or a wool blend of some sort. It likes to felt, so frogging doesn't seem to be as much of an option on this project. I'll just have to be extra careful with the lace sections!

Pattern is the Sparrowette shawl on Ravelry

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

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[spocksgotemotions]

been having a Lot of thoughts about working in childcare lately. Like I love my job. I love the kids I work with. I love most of my coworkers. But sometimes it’s just So Emotionally Exhausting. These are babies! Their parents should be better.